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PUBLISHERS. 
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RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR 


OTHER   STORIES 

BY 
COUNT   LYOF   N.  TOLSTOI 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE   RUSSIAN 

BY 

NATHAN    HASKELL   DOLE 


NEW  YORK 
THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL  &  CO. 

13   ASTOR   PLACE 


PRESERVATION 
COPY  ADDED 
ORIGINAL  TO  BE 
RETAINED 


APR  2  6  1994 


CopYniQHT,  1887, 
By  THOMAS  Y.  C'KOWELL   &  CO. 


RAND  AVERY   COMPANY, 

ELECTROTYPERS   AND   PRINTERS, 

BOSTON,   MASS. 


PEEFACE. 


TnE  following  tales  are,  with  one  exception,  taken 
from  the  second  volume  of  Count  L.  N.  Tolstoi's 
collected  works,  and  are  representative  of  his  literary 
activity  between  1852  and  1859. 

The  first  story,  though  only  a  fragment  of  a  pro- 
jected novel  to  be  called  "A  Russian  Proprietor,"  is 
perfect  and  complete  in  itself.  One  cannot  help  feel- 
ing that  it  is  autobiographical ;  Count  Tolstoi'  himself, 
it  will  be  remembered,  having  suddenly  quitted  the 
University  of  Kazan,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  his 
friends,  and  retired  to  his  paternal  estate  of  Yasnaya 
Polyana,  near  Tula.  The  aunt  whose  letter  is  quoted 
in  the  first  chapter  must  have  been  Count  Tolstoi's 
aunt,  mentioned  in  the  second  chapter  of  "  My  Con- 
fession." 

The  "Recollections  of  a  Scorer"  and  "  Two  Hus- 
sars "  are  both  evidently  reminiscent  of  Count  Tolstoi's 
gambling-days.  Both  must  have  been  suggested  by 
some  such  terrible  experience  as  that  told  of  the 
count's  gambling-debt  in  the  Caucasus. 

"Lucerne"  and  "Albert"  are  likewise  evidently 
transcripts  from  the  author's  own  experience.  The 
strange  benefactor  in  each,  and  the  shadowy  Prince 
Nekhliudof ,  are  all  Count  Tolstoi  in  phases  quite  dis- 
tinct from  what  he  is  at  present. 


Vi  rREFACI 

"The  Three  Deaths,"  written  in  1859,  has  little  of 
the  sombre  power  of  "Ivan  Ilyitch."  The  scalpel 
which  was  so  remorselessly  applied  to  the  soul  in  the 
latter  is  wholly  hidden.  It  is  realism  pure  and  simple ; 
and  the  contrast  between  the  death  of  the  peasant  and 
of  the  lady  is  left  to  inference,  made  all  the  stronger 
by  the  unexpected  and  grandiose  finale  in  the  death  of 
the  tree. 

In  interesting  contrast  to  these  characteristic  stories 
is  the  little  gem  entitled  "  A  Prisoner  in  the  Caucasus," 
which  is  found  in  Vol.  IV.  of  the  Count's  works  under 
the  heading  "  Tales  for  Children."  The  style  is  per- 
fectly simple  and  lucid  ;  the  pictures  of  life  in  the 
Tatar  village  among  the  mountains  are  intensely  vivid, 
painted  with  strong  and  masterly  touches ;  and  the 
reader  will  not  soon  forget  the  little  laughing  maiden 
Dina,  with  the  rubles  jingling  in  her  braided  hair. 
She  stands  forth  as  one  of  the  most  fascinating  of  the 
author's  creations. 

NATHAN  HASKELL  DOLE. 

Boston,  Dec.  5, 1887. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

A  Russian  Proprietor 1 

Lucerne ol 

Recollections  of  a  Scorer 12^ 

Albert 148 

iTwo  Hussars 19° 

Three  Deaths 28G 


A  Prisoner  in  the  Caucasus 

vii 


308 


A   BUSSIAIS"   PEOPEIETOR 


Prince  Nekhliudof  was  nineteen  years  of  age  when, 
at  the  end  of  his  third  term  at  the  university,  he  came 
to  spend  his  summer  vacation  on  his  estate.  He  was 
alone  there  all  the  summer. 

In  the  autumn  he  wrote  in  his  unformed,  boyish 
hand,  a  letter  to  his  aunt,  the  Countess  Biflorotska'in., 
who,  according  to  his  notion,  was  his  best  friend,  and 
the  most  genial  woman  in  the  world.  The  letter  was 
in  French,  and  was  to  the  following  effect :  — 

"  Dear  Auntie,  —  I  have  adopted  a  resolution  upon 
which  must  depend  the  fate  of  my  whole  existence. 
I  have  left  the  university  in  order  to  devote  myself  to 
a  country  life,  because  I  feel  that  I  was  born  for 'it. 
For  God's  sake,  dear  auntie,  don't  make  sport  of 
me.  You  say  that  I  am  young.  Perhaps  I  am  still 
almost  a  child ;  but  this  does  not  prevent  me  from 
feeliug  sure  of  my  vocation,  from  wishing  to  accom- 
plish it  successfully,  and  from  loving  it. 

"As  I  have  already  written  you,  I  found  our  af- 
fairs in  indescribable  confusion.  Wishing  to  bring 
order  out  of  chaos,  I  made  an  investigation,  and  dis- 
covered that  the  principal  trouble  was  due  to  the  most 

l 


2  A  RUSSIAN  riiOrn/ETOIi. 

wretched  miserable  condition  of  the  peasants,  and 
that  this  trouble  could  be  remedied  only  by  work  and 
patience. 

"  If  you  could  only  see  two  of  my  peasants,  David 
and  Ivan,  and  the  way  that  they  and  their  families 
live,  I  am  convinced  that  one  glance  at  these  two  un- 
fortunates would  do  more  to  persuade  you  than  all  that 
I  can  tell  you  in  justification  of  my  resolve.  Is  not 
my  obligation  sacred  and  clear,  to  labor  for  the  wel- 
fare of  these  seven  hundred  human  beings  for  whom 
I  must  be  responsible  to  God  ?  Would  it  not  be  a  sin 
to  leave  them  to  the  mercy  of  harsh  elders  and  over- 
seers, so  as  to  carry  out  plans  of  enjoyment  or  am- 
bition? And  why  should  I  seek  in  any  other  sphere 
the  opportunity  of  being  useful,  and  doing  good,  when 
such  a  noble,  brilliant,  and  paramount  duty  lies  right 
at  hand? 

"  I  feel  that  I  am  capable  of  being  a  good  farmer ; l 
and  in  order  to  make  myself  such  an  one  as  I  under- 
stand the  word  to  mean,  I  do  not  need  m}*  diploma  as 
B.A.,  nor  the  rank  which  you  so  expect  of  me.  Dear 
auntie,  do  not  make  ambitious  plans  for  me :  accustom 
yourself  to  the  thought  that  I  am  going  on  an  absolutely 
peculiar  path,  but  one  that  is  good,  and,  I  think,  will 
bring  me  to  happiness.  I  have  thought  and  thought 
about  my  future  duties,  have  written  out  some  rules  of 
conduct,  and,  if  God  onlj-  gives  me  health  and  strength, 
I  shall  succeed  in  my  undertaking. 

"  Do  not  show  this  letter  to  my  brother  Vasya :  I  am 
afraid  of  his  ridicule.  He  generally  dictates  to  me, 
and  I  am  accustomed  to  give  way  to  him.  Whilst 
Vanya  may  not  approve  of  my  resolve,  at  least  he  will 
understand  it." 

1  khozydin. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  3 

The  countess  replied  to  her  nephew  in  the  following 
letter,  also  written  in  French  :  — 

"  Your  letter,  dear  Dmitri,  showed  nothing  else  to  me 
than  that  you  have  a  warm  heart ;  and  I  have  never 
had  reason  to  doubt  that.  But,  my  dear,  our  good 
tendencies  do  us  more  harm  in  life  than  our  bad  ones. 
I  will  not  tell  you  that  you  are  committing  a  folly,  that 
3'our  behavior  annoys  me ;  but  I  will  do  my  best  to 
make  one  argument  have  an  effect  upon  you.  Let  us 
reason  together,  my  dear. 

"  You  say  you  feel  that  your  vocation  is  for  a 
country  life  ;  that  you  wish  to  make  your  serfs  happy, 
and  that  you  hope  to  be  a  good  farmer. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  must  tell  you  that  we  feel  sure 
of  our  vocation  onty  when  we  have  once  made  a  mis- 
take in  one  ;  secondly,  that  it  is  easier  to  win  happiness 
for  ourselves  than  for  others  ;  and  thirdly,  that,  in  order 
to  be  a  good  master,  it  is  necessary  to  be  a  cold  and 
austere  man,  which  you  will  never  in  this  world  suc- 
ceed in  being,  even  though  you  strive  to  make  believe 
that  you  are. 

"  You  consider  your  arguments  irresistible,  and  go 
so  far  as  to  adopt  them  as  rules  for  the  conduct  of 
life ;  but  at  my  age,  my  dear,  people  don't  care  for 
arguments  and  rules,  but  only  for  experience.  Now, 
experience  tells  me  that  your  plans  are  childish. 

"I  am  now  in  my  fiftieth  year,  and  I  have  known 
many  fine  men ;  but  I  have  never  heard  of  a  young 
man  of  good  family  and  ability  burying  himself  in  the 
country  under  the  pretext  of  doing  good. 

u  You  have  always  wished  to  appear  original,  but 
your  originality  is  nothing  else  than  morbidly  developed 
egotism.     And,  my  dear,  choose  some  better-trodden 


4  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

path.  It  will  lead  you  to  success  ;  and  success,  if  it  is 
not  necessary  for  you  as  success,  is  at  least  indispensa- 
ble in  giving  you  the  possibility  of  doing  good  which 
you  desire.  The  poverty  of  a  few  serfs  is  an  unavoid- 
able evil,  or,  rather,  an  evil  which  cannot  be  remedied 
by  forgetting  all  your  obligations  to  society,  to  your 
relatives,  and  to  yourself. 

"With  your  intellect,  with  your  kind  heart,  and 
your  love  for  virtue,  no  career  would  fail  to  bring  you 
success ;  but  at  all  events  choose  one  which  would  be 
worth  your  while,  and  bring  you  honor. 

"I  believe  that  you  are  sincere,  when  you  sa}-  that 
you  are  free  from  ambition  ;  but  you  are  deceiving 
yourself.  Ambition  is  a  virtue  at  your  age,  and  with 
your  means  it  becomes  a  fault  and  an  absurdity  when 
a  man  is  no  longer  in  the  condition  to  satisfy  this 
passion. 

"  And  you  will  experience  this  if  you  do  not  change 
your  intention.  Good-by,  dear  Mitya.  It  seems  to 
me  that  I  have  all  the  more  love  for  you  on  account  of 
your  foolish  but  still  noble  and  magnanimous  plan. 
Do  as  you  please,  but  I  forewarn  you  that  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  sympathize  with  you." 

The  young  man  read  this  letter,  considered  it  long 
and  seriously,  and  finally,  having  decided  that  his 
genial  aunt  might  be  mistaken,  sent  in  his  petition  for 
dismissal  from  the  university,  and  took  up  his  resi- 
dence at  his  estate. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


II. 


The  young  proprietor  had,  as  he  wrote  his  aunt, 
devised  a  plan  of  action  in  the  management  of  his 
estate ;  and  his  whole  life  and  activity  were  measured 
]Sf  hours,  days,  and  months. 

Sunday  was  reserved  for  the  reception  of  petitioners, 
domestic  servants,  and  peasants,  for  the  visitation  of 
the  poor  serfs  belonging  to  the  estate,  and  the  distri- 
bution of  assistance  with  the  approval  of  the  Commune, 
which  met  every  Sunday  evening,  and  was  obliged  to 
decide  who  should  have  help,  and  what  amount  should 
be  given. 

In  such  employments  passed  more  than  a  year,  and 
the  young  man  was  now  no  longer  a  novice  either  in 
the  practical  or  theoretical  knowledge  of  estate  man- 
agement. 

It  was  a  clear  July  Sunday  when  Nekhliudof ,  having 
finished  his  coffee  and  run  through  a  chapter  of  "  Maison 
Rustique,"  put  his  note-book  and  a  packet  of  bank- 
notes into  the  pocket  of  his  light  overcoat,  and  started 
out  of  doors.  It  was  a  great  country-house  with  colon- 
nades and  terraces  where  he  lived,  but  he  occupied 
only  one  small  room  on  the  ground  floor.  He  made 
his  way  over  the  neglected,  weed-grown  paths  of  the 
old  English  garden,  toward  the  village,  which  was  dis- 
tributed along  both  sides  of  the  highway. 

Nekhliudof  was  a  tall,  slender  young  man,  with 
long,  thick,  wavy  auburn  hair,  with  a  bright  gleam  in 


6  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

his  dark  eyes,  a  clear  complexion,  and  rosy  lips  where 
the  first  down  of  young  manhood  was  now  beginning 
to  appear. 

In  all  his  motions  and  gait,  could  be  seen  strength, 
energy,  and  the  good-natured  self-satisfaction  of  youth. 

The  serfs,  in  variegated  groups,  were  returning 
from  church:  old  men,  maidens,  children,  mothers 
with  babies  in  their  arms,  dressed  in  their  Sunday  best, 
were  scattering  to  their  homes ;  and  as  they  met  the 
burin  they  bowed  low  and  made  room  for  him  to  pass. 

After  Nekhliudof  had  walked  some  distance  along 
the  street,  he  stopped,  and  drew  from  his  pocket  his 
note-book,  on  the  last  page  of  which,  inscribed  in  his 
own  boyish  hand,  were  a  number  of  names  of  his  serfs 
with  memoranda.  He  read,  "Ivda  Churis  asks  for 
aid;  "  and  then,  proceeding  still  farther  along  the 
street,  entered  the  gate  of  the  second  hut1  on  the 
right. 

Churis's  domicile  consisted  of  a  half-deca}'ed  struc- 
ture, with  musty  corners ;  the  sides  were  rickety.  It 
was  so  buried  in  the  ground,  that  the  banking,  made 
of  earth  and  dung,  almost  hid  the  two  windows.  The 
one  on  the  front  had  a  broken  sash,  and  the  shutters 
were  half  torn  away ;  the  other  was  small  and  low,  and 
was  stuffed  with  flax.  A  boarded  entry  with  rotting 
sills  and  low  door,  another  small  building  still  older 
and  still  lower-studded  than  the  entry,  a  gate,  and  a 
barn  were  clustered  about  the  principal  hut. 

All  this  had  once  been  covered  by  one  irregular 
roof;  but  now  only  over  the  eaves  hung  the  thick 
straw,  black  and  decaying.  Above,  in  places,  could 
be  seen  the  framework  and  rafters. 

In  front  of  the  yard  were  a  well  with  rotten  curb, 

i  izbd. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  7 

the  remains  of  a  post,  and  the  wheel,  and  a  mud- 
puddle  stirred  up  by  the  cattle  where  some  ducks  were 
splashing. 

Near  the  well  stood  two  old  willows,  split  and 
broken,  with  their  whitish-green  foliage.  They  were 
witnesses  to  the  fact  that  some  one,  some  time,  had 
taken  interest  in  beautifying  this  place.  Under  one  of 
them  sat  a  fair-haired  girl  of  seven  summers,  watch- 
ing another  little  girl  of  two,  who  was  creeping  at  her 
feet.  The  watch-dog  gambolling  about  them,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  the  barin,  flew  headlong  under  the  gate,  and 
there  set  up  a  quavering  yelp  expressive  of  panic. 

"  Ivan  at  home?  "  asked  Nekhliudof. 

The  little  girl  seemed  stupefied  at  this  question,  and 
kept  opening  her  eyes  wider  and  wider,  but  made  no 
reply.     The  baby  opened  her  mouth,  and  set  up  a  yell. 

A  little  old  woman,  in  a  torn  checkered  skirt,  belted 
low  with  an  old  red  girdle,  peered  out  of  the  door,  and 
also  said  nothing.  Nekhliudof  approached  the  entry, 
and  repeated  his  inquiry. 

"  Yes,  he's  at  home,"  replied  the  little  old  woman 
in  a  quavering  voice,  bowing  low,  and  evincing  timidity 
and  agitation. 

After  Nekhliudof  had  asked  after  her  health,  and 
passed  through  the  entry  into  the  little  yard,  the  old 
woman,  resting  her  chin  in  her  hand,  went  to  the  door, 
and,  without  taking  her  eyes  off  the  barin,  began  gently 
to  shake  her  head. 

The  yard  was  in  a  wretched  condition,  with  heaps 
of  old  blackened  manure  that  had  not  been  carried 
away :  on  the  manure  were  thrown  in  confusion  a 
rotting  block,  pitchforks,  and  two  harrows. 

There  were  pent-houses  around  the  yard,  under  one 
side  of  which  stood  a  wooden  plough,  a  cart  without  a 


8  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

wheel,  and  a  pile  of  empty  good-for-nothing  beehives 
thrown  one  upon  another.  The  roof  was  in  disrepair; 
and  one  side  had  fallen  in  so  that  the  covering  in 
front  rested,  not  on  the  supports,  but  on  the  manure. 

Churis,  with  the  edge  and  head  of  an  axe,  was 
breaking  off  the  wattles  that  strengthened  the  roof. 
Ivan  was  a  peasant,  fifty  years  of  age.  In  stature,  he 
was  short.  The  features  of  his  tanned  oval  face, 
framed  in  a  dark  auburn  beard  and  hair  where  a  trace 
of  gray  was  beginning  to  appear,  were  handsome  and 
expressive.  His  dark  blue  e}?es  gleamed  with  intelli- 
gence and  lazy  good-nature,  from  under  half-shut  lids. 
His  small,  regular  mouth,  sharply  defined  under  his 
sandy  thin  mustache  when  he  smiled,  betrayed  a  calm 
self-confidence,  and  a  certain  bantering  indifference 
toward  ail  around  him. 

By  the  roughness  of  his  skin,  by  his  deep  wrinkles, 
by  the  veins  that  stood  out  prominently  on  his  neck, 
face,  and  hands,  by  his  unnatural  stoop  and  the  crooked 
position  of  his  legs,  it  was  evident  that  all  his  life  had 
been  spent  in  hard  work,  far  beyond  his  strength. 

His  garb  consisted  of  white  hempen  drawers,  with 
blue  patches  on  the  knees,  and  a  dirty  shirt  of  the 
same  material,  whicli  kept  hitching  up  his  back  and 
arms.  The  shirt  was  belted  low  in  the  waist  by  a 
girdle,  from  which  hung  a  brass  key. 

"  Good-day,"  said  the  barin,  as  he  stepped  into  the 
yard.  Churis  glanced  around,  and  kept  on  with  his 
work ;  making  energetic  motions,  he  finished  clearing 
away  the  wattles  from  under  the  shed,  and  then  only, 
having  struck  the  axe  into  the  block,  he  came  out  into 
the  middle  of  the  yard. 

"A  pleasant  holiday,  your  excellency!"  said  he, 
bowing  low  and  smoothing  his  hair. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  9 

"Thanks,  my  friend.  I  came  to  see  how  your 
affairs1  were  progressing,"  said  Nekhliudof  with  boy- 
ish friendliness  and  timidity,  glancing  at  the  peasant's 
garb.  "Just  show  me  what  you  need  in  the  way  of 
supports  that  you  asked  me  about  at  the  last  meeting." 

"  Supports,  of  course,  sir,  your  excellency,  sir.2  I 
should  like  it  fixed  a  little  here,  sir,  if  3-011  will  have 
the  goodness  to  cast  your  eye  on  it:  here  this  corner 
has  given  way,  sir,  and  011I3'  by  the  mercy  of  God  the 
cattle  didn't  happen  to  be  there.  It  barely  hangs  at 
all,"  said  Churis,  gazing  with  an  expressive  look  at  his 
broken-down,  ramshackly,  and  ruined  sheds.  "  Now 
the  girders  and  the  supports  and  the  rafters  are  noth- 
ing but  rot ;  37ou  won't  see  a  sound  timber.  But 
where  can  we  get  lumber  nowadays,  I  should  like  to 
know?" 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  with  the  five  supports 
when  the  one  shed  has  fallen  in  ?  the  others  will  be  soon 
falling  in  too,  won't  they?  You  need  to  have  every 
thing  made  new,  —  rafters  and  girders  and  posts  ;  but 
you  don't  want  supports,"  said  the  barin,  evidently 
priding  himself  on  his  comprehension  of  the  case. 

Churis  made  no  reply. 

"Of  course  you  need  lumber,  but  not  supports. 
You  ought  to  have  told  me  so." 

"  Surely  I  do,  but  there's  nowhere  to  get  it.  Not 
all  of  us  can  come  to  the  manor-house.  If  we  all 
should  get  into  the  habit  of  coming  to  the  manor-house 
and  asking  your  excellency  for  eveiy  thing  we  wanted, 
what  kind  of  serfs  should  we  be?  But  if  your  kind- 
ness went  so  far  as  to  let  me  have  some  of  the  oak 
saplings  that  are  lying  idle  over  b3T  the  threshing- 
floor,"  said  the  peasant,  making  a  low  bow  and  scrap- 

1  khosydistvo.  a  bdtiushka. 


10  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

ing  with  his  foot,  "  then,  maybe,  I  might  exchange 
some,  and  piece  out  others,  so  that  the  old  would  lust 
some  time  longer." 

14  What  is  the  good  of  the  old?  Why,  you  just  told 
me  that  it  was  all  old  and  rotten.  This  part  has 
fallen  in  to-day ;  to-morrow,  that  one  will ;  the  day 
after,  a  third.  So,  if  any  thing  is  to  be  done,  it  must 
be  all  made  new,  so  that  the  work  may  not  be  wasted. 
Now  tell  me  what  you  think  about  it.  Can  your 
premises1  last  out  this  winter,  or  not?  " 

44  Who  can  tell?" 

44  No,  but  what  do  you  think?  Will  they  fall  in,  or 
not?" 

Churis  meditated  for  a  moment.  "  Can't  help  fall- 
ing in,"  said  he  suddenly. 

44  Well,  now  you  see  you  had  better  have  said  that 
at  the  meeting,  that  you  needed  to  rebuild  your  whole 
place,1  instead  of  a  few  props.  You  see,  I  should  be 
glad  to  help  you." 

uMany  thanks  for  your  kindness,"  replied  Churis, 
in  an  incredulous  tone  and  not  looking  at  the  barm. 
44  If  you  would  give  me  four  joists  and  some  props, 
then,  perhaps,  I  might  fix  things  up  myself ;  but  if 
any  one  is  hunting  after  good-for-nothing  timbers, 
then  he'd  find  them  in  the  joists  of  the  hut." 

44  Why,  is  your  hut  so  wretched  as  all  that?  " 

44  My  old  woman  and  I  are  expecting  it  to  fall  in  on 
us  any  day,"  replied  Churis  indifferently.  44  A  day  or 
two  ago,  a  girder  fell  from  the  ceiling,  and  struck  my 
old  woman." 

44  What!  struck  her?" 

44  Yes,  struck  her,  your  excellency  :  whacked  her  on 
the  back,  so  that  she  lay  half  dead  all  night." 

1  dvor. 


A    RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  11 

"  Well,  did  she  get  over  it?  " 

"  Pretty  much,  but  she's  been  ailing  ever  since  ;  but 
then  she's  always  ailing." 

"  What,  are  you  sick?  "  asked  Nekhliudof  of  the  old 
woman,  who  had  been  standing  all  the  time  at  the 
door,  and  had  begun  to  groan  as  soon  as  her  husband 
mentioned  her. 

"  It  bothers  me  here  more  and  more,  especially 
on  Sundays,"  she  replied,  pointing  to  her  dirty  lean 
bosom. 

"Again?"  asked  the  j'onng  master  in  a  tone  of 
vexation,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  Why,  if  you  are 
so  sick,  don't  3*ou  come  and  get  advice  at  the  dis- 
pensary? That  is  what  the  dispensary  was  built  for. 
Haven't  you  been  told  about  it?  " 

44  Certainly  we  have,  but  I  have  not  had  any  time  to 
spare ;  have  had  to  work  in  the  field,  and  at  home, 
and  look  after  the  children,  and  no  one  to  help  me  ;  if 
I  weren't  all  alone  "... 


12  a  JtvssiAN  riwrnir.Ton. 


III. 


Nekiiltupof  wont  into  the  hat.  The  uneven  smoke- 
begrimed  walls  of  the  dwelling  were  hung  with  various 
rags  and  clothes ;  and,  in  the  living-room,  were  liter- 
ally covered  with  reddish  cockroaches  clustering  around 
the  holy  images  and  benches. 

In  the  middle  of  this  dark,  fetid  apartment,  not 
fourteen  feet  square,  was  a  huge  craek  in  the  ceiling ; 
and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  was  braced  up  in  two 
places,  the  ceiling  hung  down  so  that  it  threatened  to 
fall  from  moment  to  moment. 

"Yes,  the  hut  is  very  miserable,"  said  the  bdrin, 
looking  into  the  face  of  Churis,  who,  it  seems,  had  not 
cared  to  speak  first  about  this  state  of  things. 

"It  will  crush  us  to  death;  it  will  crush  the  chil- 
dren," said  the  woman  in  a  tearful  voice,  attending  to 
the  stove  which  stood  under  the  loft. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  cried  Churis  sternly  ;  and  with 
a  slight  smile  playing  under  his  mustaches,  he  turned  to 
the  master.  "And  I  haven't  the  wit  to  know  what's 
to  be  done  with  it,  your  excellency,  —  with  this  hut  and 
props  and  planks.  There's  nothing  to  be  done  with 
them." 

"  How  can  we  live  through  the  winter  here?  Okh, 
okh!    Oh,  oh  !  "  groaned  the  old  woman. 

"  There's  one  thing  —  if  we  put  in  some  more  props 
and  laid  a  new  floor/'  said  the  husband,  interrupting 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  13 

her  with  a  calm,  practical  expression,  "  and  threw  over 
one  set  of  rafters,  then  perhaps  we  might  manage  to  get 
through  the  winter.  It  is  possible  to  live  ;  but  you'd 
have  to  put  some  props  all  over  the  hut,  like  that :  but 
if  it  gets  shaken,  then  there  won't  be  any  thing  left  of 
it.  As  long  as  it  stands,  it  holds  together,"  he  con- 
cluded, evidently  perfectly  contented  that  he  appre- 
ciated this  contingency. 

Nekhliudof  was  both  vexed  and  grieved  that  Churis 
had  got  himself  into  such  a  condition,  without  having 
come  to  him  long  before  ;  since  he  had  more  than  once, 
during  his  sojourn  on  the  estate,  told  the  peasants,  and 
insisted  upon  it,  that  they  should  all  apply  directly  to 
him  for  whatever  they  needed. 

He  now  felt  some  indignation  against  the  peasant ; 
he  angrily  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  frowned.  But 
the  sight  of  the  poverty  in  the  midst  of  which  he 
found  himself,  and  Churis's  calm  and  self-satisfied 
appearance  in  contrast  with  this  poverty,  changed  his 
vexation  into  a  sort  of  feeling  of  melancholy  and  hope- 
lessness. 

"  Well,  Ivan,  why  on  earth  didn't  you  tell  me  about 
this  before?"  he  asked  in  a  tone  of  reproach,  as  he 
took  a  seat  on  the  filth}7,  unsteady  bench. 

"  I  didn't  dare  to,  your  excellency,"  replied  Churis 
with  the  same  scarcely  perceptible  smile,  shuffling  with 
his  black,  bare  feet  over  the  uneven  surface  of  the 
mud  floor ;  but  this  he  said  so  fearlessly  and  with  such 
composure,  that  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  he  had  any 
timidity  about  going  to  his  master. 

"  We  are  mere  peasants ;  how  could  we  be  so  pre- 
suming? "  began  the  old  woman,  sobbing. 

u  Hush  up,"  said  Churis,  again  addressing  her. 

"It  is  impossible  for  you  to  live  in  this  hut:  it's 


H  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

all  rotten,  "  cried  Nekhliodof  after  a  brief  silence. 
44  Now,  this  is  how  we  shall  manage  it,  my  friend" 1  .  .  . 
"I  an  listening." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  improved  stone  cottages  that  I 
have  been  building  at  the  new  farm,  —  the  one  with  the 
undressed  walls?  " 

44  Indeed  I  have  seen  them,"  replied  Churis,  with  a 
smile  that  showed  his  white  teeth  still  unimpaired. 
44  Everybody's  agog  at  the  way  they're  built.  Fiue 
cottages !  The  bo3's  were  laughing  and  wondering  if 
they  wouldn't  be  turned  into  granaries ;  they  would  be 
so  secure  against  rats.  Fine  cottages,"  he  said  in 
conclusion,  with  an  expression  of  absurd  perplexity, 
shaking  his  head,  44  just  like  a  jail !  " 

44  Yes,  they're  splendid  cottages,  dry  and  warm,  and 
no  danger  of  fire,"  replied  the  barin,  a  frown  crossing 
his  youthful  face  as  he  perceived  the  peasant's  invol- 
untary sarcasm. 

44  Without  question,  your  excellency,  fine  cottages." 

44  Well,  then,  one  of  these  cottages  is  just  finished. 
It  is  twenty-four  feet  square,  with  an  entry,  and  a  barn, 
and  it's  entirely  ready.  I  will  let  you  have  it  on  credit 
if  you  say  so,  at  cost  price  ;  you  can  pay  for  it  at  3'our 
own  convenience,"  said  the  barin  with  a  self-satisfied 
smile,  which  he  could  not  control,  at  the  thought  of  his 
benevolence.  44  You  can  pull  down  this  old  one,"  he 
went  on  to  sa}' ;  "  it  will  make  you  a  granary.  We 
will  also  move  the  pens.  The  water  there  is  splen- 
did. I  will  give  you  enough  land  for  a  vegetable- 
garden,  and  I'll  let  you  have  a  strip  of  land  on  all 
three  sides.  You  can  live  there  in  a  decent  way. 
Now,  does  not  that  please  you?"  asked  Nekhliudof, 
perceiving  that  as  soon  as  he  spoke  of  moving,  Churis 

1  bratets,  brother. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  15 

became  perfectly  motionless,  and  looked  at  the  ground 
without  even  a  shadow  of  a  smile. 

"It's  as  your  excellency  wills,"  he  replied,  not 
raising  his  eyes. 

The  old  woman  came  forward  as  though  something 
had  stung  her  to  the  quick,  and  began  to  speak ;  but 
her  husband  anticipated  her. 

"  It's  as  your  excellency  wills,"  he  repeated  reso- 
lutely, and  at  the  same  time  humbly  glancing  at  his 
master,  and  tossing  back  his  hair.  "  But  it  would 
never  do  for  us  to  live  on  a  new  farm." 

"Why  not?" 

"Nay,  your  excellenc}7,  not  if  you  move  us  over 
there :  here  we  are  wretched  enough,  but  over  there 
we  could  never  in  the  world  get  along.  What  kind  of 
peasants  should  we  be  there?  Nay,  nay,  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  live  there." 

"  But  why  not,  pray?  " 

"  We  should  be  totally  ruined,  your  excellency." 

"  But  wh}r  can't  }rou  live  there?  " 

"  What  kind  of  a  life  would  it  be?  Just  think!  it 
has  never  been  lived  in  ;  we  don't  know  any  thing  about 
the  water,  no  pasture  anywhere.  Here  we  have  had 
hemp-fields  ever  since  we  can  remember,  all  manured ; 
but  what  is  there  there?  Yes,  what  is  there  there? 
A  wilderness  !  No  hedges,  no  corn-kilns,  no  sheds,  no 
nothing  at  all !  Oh,  }'es,  your  excellency  ;  we  should 
be  ruined  if  you  took  us  there  ;  we  should  be  perfectly 
ruined.  A  new  place,  all  unknown  to  us,"  he  re- 
peated, shaking  his  head  thoughtfully  but  resolutely. 

Nekhliudof  tried  to  point  out  to  the  peasant  that  the 
change,  on  the  contrary,  would  be  veiy  advantageous 
for  him ;  that  they  would  plant  hedges,  and  build 
sheds  ;  that  the  water  there  was  excellent,  and  so  on  : 


16  A   RUSSIAN  PliOPIifKTOR. 

but  Churis's  obstinate  silence  exasperated  him,  and 
he  accordingly  felt  that  he  was  speaking  to  no  pur- 
pose. 

Churis  made  no  objection  to  what  he  said  ;  but  when 
the  master  finished  speaking,  he  remarked  with  a  crafty 
smile,  that  it  would  be  best  of  all  to  remove  to  that 
farm  some  of  the  old  domestic  servants,  and  Alyosha 
the  fool,  so  that  they  might  watch  over  the  grain  there. 

"  That  would  be  worth  while,"  he  remarked,  and 
smiled  once  more.  "  This  is  foolish  business,  your 
excellency." 

"  What  makes  jtou  think  the  place  is  not  inhabit- 
able?" insisted  Nekhliudof  patiently.  "  This  place 
here  isn't  inhabitable,  and  hasn't  been,  and  yet  you  live 
here.  But  there,  you  will  get  settled  there  before  you 
know  it;  you  will  certainly  find  it  easy  "... 

"  But,  your  excellency,  kind  sir,1  how  can  it  be 
compared?"  replied  Churis  eagerty,  as  though  he 
feared  that  the  master  would  not  accept  a  conclusive 
argument.  "  Here  is  our  place  in  the  world;  we  are 
happy  in  it;  we  are  accustomed  to  it,  and  the  road 
and  the  pond  —  where  would  the  old  woman  do  her 
washing?  where  would  the  cattle  get  watered?  And 
all  our  peasant  ways  are  here ;  here  from  time  out  of 
mind.  And  here's  the  threshing-floor,  and  the  little 
garden,  and  the  willows;  and  here  my  parents  lived, 
and  my  grandfather ;  and  my  father  gave  his  soul  into 
God's  keeping  here,  and  I  too  would  end  my  days 
here,  your  excellency.  I  ask  nothing  more  than  that. 
Be  good,  and  let  the  hut  be  put  in  order ;  we  shall  be 
always  grateful  for  your  kindness :  but  no,  not  for 
any  thing,  would  we  spend  our  last  da}rs  anywhere 
else.     Let  us  stay  here  and  say  our  prayers,"  he  con- 

1  bdtiushka. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  17 

tinned,  bowing  low ;  "do  not  take  us  from  our  nest, 
kind  sir."  l 

Ail  the  time  that  Churis  was  speaking,  there  was 
heard  in  the  place  under  the  loft,  where  his  wife  was 
standing,  sobs  growing  more  and  more  violent ;  and 
when  the  husband  said  "  kind  sir"  she  suddenly 
darted  forward,  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  threw  her- 
self at  the  barin's  feet. 

"Don't  destroy  us,  benefactor;  you  are  our  father, 
you  are  our  mother !  Where  are  you  going  to  move 
us  to  ?  We  are  old  folks  ;  we  have  no  one  to  help  us. 
You  are  to  us  as  God  is,"  lamented  the  old  woman. 

Nekhliudof  leaped  up  from  the  bench,  and  was 
going  to  lift  the  old  woman ;  but  she,  with  a  sort  of 
passionate  despair,  beat  her  forehead  on  the  earth 
floor,  and  pushed  aside  the  master's  hand. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  Get  up,  I  beg  of 
you.  If  you  don't  wish  to  go,  it  is  not  necessary.  I 
won't  oblige  you  to,"  said  he,  waving  his  hand,  and 
retreating  to  the  door. 

When  Nekhliudof  sat  down  on  the  bench  again,  and 
silence  was  restored  in  the  room,  interrupted  only  by 
the  sobs  of  the  old  woman,  who  was  once  more  busy 
under  the  loft,  and  was  wiping  away  her  tears  with  the 
sleeves  of  her  shirt,  the  young  proprietor  began  to 
comprehend  what  was  meant  for  the  peasant  and  his 
wife  by  the  dilapidated  little  hut,  the  crumbling  well 
with  the  filthy  pool,  the  decaying  stalls  and  sheds, 
and  the  broken  willows  which  could  be  seen  before  the 
crooked  window ;  and  the  feeling  that  arose  in  him 
was  burdensome,  melancholy,  and  touched  with  shame. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  the  Commune  last  Sunday, 
Ivan,  that  you  needed  a  new  hut?    I  don't  know,  now, 

1  batiushka. 


18  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

how  to  help  you.  I  told  you  all  at  the  first  meeting, 
that  I  had  come  to  live  in  the  country,  and  devote 
my  life  to  you,  that  I  was  ready  to  deprive  myself  of 
every  thing  to  make  you  happy  and  contented ;  and  I 
vowed  before  God,  now,  that  I  would  keep  my  word," 
said  the  young  proprietor,  not  knowing  that  such  a 
manner  of  opening  the  heart  is  incapable  of  arousing 
faith  in  any  one,  and  especially  in  the  Russian,  who 
loves  not  words  but  deeds,  and  is  reluctant  to  be 
stirred  up  by  feelings,  no  matter  how  beautiful  they 
may  be. 

But  the  simple-hearted  young  man  was  so  pleased 
with  this  feeling  that  he  experienced,  that  he  could 
not  help  speaking. 

Churis  leaned  his  head  to  one  side,  and  slowly  blink- 
ing, listened  with  constrained  attention  to  his  master, 
as  to  a  man  to  whom  he  must  needs  listen,  even  though 
he  says  things  not  entirely  good,  and  absolutely  foreign 
to  his  way  of  thinking. 

"But  you  see  I  cannot  do  all  that  everybody  asks 
of  me.  If  I  did  not  refuse  some  who  ask  me  for 
wood,  I  myself  should  be  left  without  any,  and  I  could 
not  give  to  those  who  really  needed.  When  I  made 
this  rule,  I  did  it  for  the  regulation  of  the  peasants' 
affairs  ;  and  I  put  it  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  Com- 
mune. This  wood  now  is  not  mine,  but  yours,  you 
peasants',  and  I  cannot  any  longer  dispose  of  it;  but 
the  Commune  disposes  of  it,  as  you  know.  Come  to  the 
meeting  to-night.  I  will  tell  the  Commune  about  your 
request:  if  they  are  disposed  to  give  you  a  new  hut, 
well  and  good ;  but  I  haven't  any  more  wood.  I 
wish  with  all  my  soul  to  help  you ;  but  if  you  aren't 
willing  to  move,  then  it  is  no  longer  my  affair,  but  the 
Commune's.     Do  you  understand  me?  " 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  19 

"Many  thanks  for  your  kindness,"  replied  Churis 
in  some  agitation.  "  If  you  will  give  me  some  lumber, 
then  we  can  make  repairs.  What  is  the  Commune? 
It's  a  well-known  fact  that"  .  .  . 

"  No,  you  come." 

"I  obey.  I  will  come.  Why  shouldn't  I  come? 
Only  this  thing  is  sure :  I  won't  ask  the  Commune." 


20  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


IV. 


The  young  proprietor  evidently  desired  to  ask  some 
more  questions  of  the  peasants.  He  did  not  move 
from  the  bench ;  and  he  glanced  irresolutely,  now  at 
Churis,  now  at  the  empty,  unlighted  stove. 

"  Well,  have  you  had  dinner  yet?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

A  mocking  smile  arose  to  Churis's  lips,  as  though  it 
were  ridiculous  to  him  for  his  master  to  ask  such 
foolish  questions  ;  he  made  no  reply. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  —  dinner,  benefactor?  "  said 
the  old  woman,  sighing  deeply.  "  We've  eaten  a 
little  bread  ;  that's  our  dinner.  We  couldn't  get  any 
vegetables  to-day  so  as  to  boil  some  soup,1  but  we  had 
a  little  kvas,  — enough  for  the  children." 

44  To-day  was  a  fast-day  for  us,  your  excellency," 
remarked  Churis  sarcastically,  taking  up  his  wife's 
words.  44  Bread  and  onions  ;  that's  the  way  we  peas- 
ants live.  Howsomever,  praise  be  to  the  Lord,  I  have 
a  little  grain  yet,  thanks  to  your  kindness  ;  it's  lasted 
till  now  ;  but  there's  plenty  of  our  peasants  as  ain't  got 
any.  Everywheres  there's  scarcity  of  onious.  Only  a 
day  or  two  ago  they  sent  to  Mikhail  the  gardener,  to 
get  a  bunch  for  a  farthing:  couldn't  get  any  any- 
wheres. Haven't  been  to  God's  church  scarcely  since 
Easter.  Haven't  had  nothing  to  buy  a  taper  for 
Mikola  [St.  Nicholas]  with." 

Nekhliudof,    not   by   hearsay  nor   by  trust   in   the 

1  shchets  for  shchi. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  21 

words  of  others,  but  by  the  evidence  of  his  own  eyes, 
had  long  known  the  extreme  depth  of  poverty  into 
which  his  peasantry  had  sunken  :  but  the  entire  reality 
was  in  such  perfect  contrast  to  his  own  bringing-up, 
the  turn  of  his  mind,  and  the  course  of  his  life,  that 
in  spite  of  himself  he  kept  forgetting  the  truth  of  it ; 
and  every  time  when,  as  now,  it  was  brought  vividly, 
tangibly,  before  him,  his  heart  was  torn  with  painful, 
almost  unendurable  melancholy,  as  though  some  abso- 
lute and  unavoidable  punishment  were  torturing  him. 

"Why  are  you  so  poor?"  he  exclaimed,  involun- 
tarily expressing  his  thought. 

"  How  could  such  as  we  help  being  poor,  sir,1  your 
excellency?  Our  land  is  so  bad,  you  j*ourself  may 
be  pleased  to  know,  —  clay  and  sand-heaps  ;  and  surely 
we  must  have  angered  God,  for  this  long  time,  ever 
since  the  cholera,  the  corn  won't  grow.  Our  meadows 
and  every  thing  else  have  been  growing  worse  and 
worse.  And  some  of  us  have  to  work  for  the  farm, 
antt  some  detailed  for  the  manor-lands.  And  here  I 
am  with  no  one  to  help  me,  and  I'm  getting  old.  I'd 
be  glad  enough  to  work,  but' I  hain't  no  strength. 
And  my  old  woman's  ailing ;  and  every  year  there's  a 
new  girl  born,  and  I  have  to  feed  'em  all.  I  get  tired 
out  all  alone,  and  here's  seven  dependent  on  me.  I 
must  be  a  sinner  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  God,  I  often 
think  to  myself.  And  when  God  takes  me  off  sud- 
den-like, I  feel  it  would  be  easier  for  me ;  just  as 
it's  better  for  them  than  to  lead  such  a  dog's  life 
here  "... 

"Oh,  olch!"  groaned  the  old  woman,  as  a  sort  of 
confirmation  of  her  husband's  words. 

"  And  this  is  all  the  help  I  have,"  continued  Churis, 

1  bdtiushka. 


22  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

pointing  to  the  white-headed,  unkempt  little  boy  of 
seven,  with  a  huge  belly,  who  at  this  moment,  timidly 
and  quietly  pushing  the  door  open,  came  into  the  hut, 
and,  resting  his  eyes  in  wonder  and  solemnity  on  the 
master,  clung  hold  of  Churis's  shirt-band  with  both 
hands. 

4k  This  is  all  the  assistance  I  have  here,"  continued 
Churis  in  a  sonorous  voice,  laying  his  shaggy  hand  on 
the  little  lad's  white  hair.  M  When  will  he  be  good 
for  any  thing?  But  my  work  isn't  much  good.  When 
I  reach  old  age  I  shall  be  good  for  nothing ;  the  rup- 
ture is  getting  the  better  of  me.  In  wet  weather  it 
makes  me  fairly  scream.  I  am  getting  to  be  an  old 
man,  and  yet  I  have  to  take  care  of  my  land.1  And 
here's  Yermilof,  Demkin,  Zabref,  all  younger  than  I 
am,  and  they  have  been  freed  from  their  land  long 
ago.  Well,  I  haven't  any  one  to  help  me  with  it; 
that's  my  misfortune.  Have  to  feed  so  many  ;  that's 
where  my  struggle  lies,  your  excellency." 

k'  I  should  be  very  glad  to  make  it  easier  for  you, 
truly.  But  how  can  I?"  asked  the  young  barin  in  a 
tone  of  sympathy,  looking  at  the  serf. 

M  How  make  it  easier?  It's  a  well-known  fact,  if 
you  have  the  land  you  must  do  enforced  labor  also ; 2 
that's  the  regulation.  I  expect  something  from  this 
youngster.  If  only  you'd  be  good  enough  to  let  him 
off  from  going  to  school.  But  just  a  day  or  two  ago, 
the  officer 8  came  and  said  that  your  excellency  wanted 

1  The  lands  belonging  to  the  Russian  commune,  or  mir,  were  periodically 
distributed  by  allotment,  each  full-grown  peasant  receiving  as  his  share  a 
tiaglo  representing  what  the  average  man  and  his  wife  were  capable  of  cul- 
tivating. When  the  period  was  long  —  ten  years  for  instance  —  it  sometimes 
happened  that  a  serf,  by  reason  of  illness,  laziness,  or  other  misfortune, 
would  find  it  hard  to  cultivate  his  share,  pay  the  tax  on  it,  and  also  do  the 
work  required  of  him  on  his  barin's  land.    Such  was  Churis's  complaint. 

2  barshchina:  work  on  the  master's  laud.  3  eemski. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  23 

him  to  go  to  school.  Do  let  him  off ;  he  has  no  capacity 
for  learning,  your  excellency.  He's  too  young  yet ;  he 
won't  understand  any  thing." 

"  No,  brother,  you're  wrong  there,"  said  the  barin. 
4 'Your  boy  is  old  enough  to  understand  ;  it's  time  for 
him  to  be  learning.  Just  think  of  it !  How  he'll 
grow  up,  and  learn  about  farming ;  yes,  and  he'll 
know  his  a-b-c's,  and  know  how  to  read  ;  and  read  in 
church.  He'll  be  a  great  help  to  you  if  God  lets  him 
live,"  said  Nekhliudof,  trying  to  make  himself  as  plain 
as  possible,  and  at  the  same  time  blushing  and  stam- 
mering. 

"  Very  true,  your  excellency.  You  don't  want  to 
do  us  an  injury,  but  there's  no  one  to  take  care  of 
the  house  ;  for  while  I  and  the  old  woman  are  doing  the 
enforced  labor,  the  boy,  though  he's  so  young,  is  a 
great  help,  driving  the  cattle  and  watering  the  horses. 
Whatever  he  is,  he's  a  true  muzhik;"  and  Churis, 
with  a  smile,  took  the  lad's  nose  between  his  fat 
fingers,  and  deftly  removed  the  mucus. 

"  Nevertheless,  you  must  send  him  to  school,  for 
now  you  are  at  home,  and  he  has  plenty  of  time,  — do 
you  hear?     Don't  you  fail." 

Churis  sighed  deeply,  and  made  no  reply. 


24  A   RUSSIAN  PR0FR1ET0R. 


"There's  one  other  thing  I  wished  to  speak  to  you 
about,"  s;l^  Nekliliuclof.  "  Why  don't  you  haul  out 
your  manure?  " 

44  What  manure,  sir,1  your  excellency?  There  isn't 
any  to  haul  out.  What  cattle  have  I  got?  One  mare 
and  colt ;  and  last  autumn  I  sold  my  heifer  to  the 
porter, — that's  all  the  cattle  I've  got." 

41 1  know  you  haven't  much,  but  why  did  you  sell 
your  heifer?  "  asked  the  bdriu  in  amazement. 

44  What  have  I  got  to  feed  her  on?  " 

44  Didn't  you  have  some  straw  for  feeding  the  cow? 
The  others  did." 

44  The  others  have  their  fields  manured,  but  my 
land's  all  clay.     I  can't  do  any  thing  with  it." 

44  Why  don't  you  dress  it,  then,  so  it  won't  be  clay? 
Then  the  land  would  give  you  grain,  and  you'd  have 
something  to  feed  to  your  stock." 

44  But  I  haven't  any  stock,  so  how  am  I  going  to  get 
dressing?  " 

"That's  an  odd  cercle  vicieux,"  said  Nekhliudof  to 
himself ;  and  he  actually  was  at  his  wits'  ends  to  find 
an  answer  for  the  peasant. 

44  And  I  tell  you  this,  your  excellency,  it  ain't  the 
manure  that  makes  the  corn  grow,  but  God,"  con- 
tinued the  peasant.  44  Now,  one  summer  I  had  six 
sheaves  on  one  little  unmanured  piece   of  land,  and 

1  bdtiushka. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  25 

only  a  twelfth  as  much  on  that  which  was  manured 
well.  No  one  like  God,"  he  added  with  a  sigh. 
"Yes,  and  my  stock  are  always  dying  off.  Five 
years  past  I  haven't  had  any  luck  with  'em.  Last 
summer  one  heifer  died ;  had  to  sell  another,  hadn't 
any  thing  to  feed  her  on ;  and  last  year  my  best  cow 
perished.  They  were  driving  her  home  from  pasture  ; 
nothing  the  matter,  but  suddenly  she  staggered  and 
staggered.  And  so  now  it's  all  empty  here.  Just  my 
bad  luck!" 

"Well,  brother,  since  you  say  that  you  have  no 
cattle  to  help  you  make  fodder,  and  no  fodder  for 
your  cattle,  here's  something  towards  a  cow,"  said 
Nekhliudof,  reddening,  and  fetching  forth  from  his 
pocket  a  packet  of  crumpled  banknotes  and  untying 
it.  "Buy  you  a  cow  at  my  expense,  and  get  some 
fodder  from  the  granary :  I  will  give  orders.  See  to 
it  that  you  have  a  cow  by  next  Sunday.  I  shall  come 
to  see." 

Churis  hesitated  long ;  and  when  he  did  not  offer  to 
take  the  money,  Nekhliudof  laid  it  down  on  the  end  of 
the  table,  and  a  still  deeper  flush  spread  over  his  face. 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  kindness,"  said  Churis,  with 
his  ordinary  smile,  which  was  somewhat  sarcastic. 

The  old  woman  sighed  heavily  several  times  as  she 
stood  under  the  loft,  and  seemed  to  be  repeating  a 
prayer. 

The  situation  was  embarrassing  for  the  young  prince : 
he  hastily  got  up  from  the  bench,  went  out  into  the 
entry,  and  called  to  Churis  to  follow  him.  The  sight 
of  the  man  whom  he  had  been  befriending  was  so 
pleasant  that  he  found  it  hard  to  tear  himself  away. 

"  I  am  glad  to  help  you,"  said  he,  halting  by  the 
well.     "  It's  in  my  power  to  help  you,  because  I  know 


26  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

that  you  are  not  lazy.  You  will  work,  and  I  will  assist 
you  ;  and,  with  God's  aid,  you  will  come  out  all  right." 

"There's  no  hope  of  coming  out  all  right,  your 
excellency,"  said  Churis,  suddenly  assuming  a  serious 
and  even  stern  expression  of  countenance,  as  though 
the  young  man's  assurance  that  he  would  come  out 
all  right  had  awakened  all  his  opposition.  "  In  my 
father's  time  my  brothers  and  I  did  not  see  any  lack ; 
but  when  he  died,  we  broke  all  up.  It  kept  going  from 
bad  to  worse.     Perfect  wretchedness  !  " 

44  Whj'  did  you  break  up?  " 

"  All  on  account  of  the  women,  your  excellency.  It 
was  just  after  your  grandfather  died;  when  he  was 
alive,  we  should  not  have  ventured  to  do  it :  then  the 
present  order  of  things  came  in.  He  was  just  like  you, 
he  took  an  interest  in  every  thing;  and  we  should 
not  have  dared  to  separate.  The  late  master  did  not 
like  to  look  after  the  peasants  ;  but  after  your  grand- 
father's time,  Andrei  Ilyitch  took  charge.  God  for- 
give him  !  he  was  a  drunken,  careless  man.  We  came 
to  him  once  and  again  with  complaints,  —  no  living  on 
account  of  the  women, — begged  him  to  let  us  sepa- 
rate. Well,  he  put  it  off,  and  put  it  off;  but  at  last 
things  came  to  such  a  pass,  the  women  kept  each  to 
their  own  part ;  we  began  to  live  apart ;  and,  of  course, 
what  could  a  single  peasant  do?  Well,  there  wasn't  no 
law  or  order.  Andrei  Ilyitch  managed  simply  to  suit 
himself.  'Take  all  you  can  get.'  And  whatever  he 
could  extort  from  a  peasant,  he  took  without  asking. 
Then  the  poll-tax  was  raised,  and  they  began  to  exact 
more  provisions,  and  we  had  less  and  less  land,  and  the 
grain  stopped  growing.  Well,  when  the  new  allotment 
was  made,  then  he  took  away  from  us  our  manured  land, 
and  added  it  to  the  master's,  the  villain,  and  ruined  us 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  27 

entirely.  He  ought  to  have  been  hung.  Your  father1 
—  the  kingdom  of  heaven  be  his  !  —  was  a  good  barin, 
but  it  was  rarely  enough  that  we  ever  had  sight  of  him  : 
he  always  lived  in  Moscow.  Well,  of  course  they  used- 
to  drive  the  carts  in  pretty  often.  Sometimes  it  would 
be  the  season  of  bad  roads,2  and  no  fodder;  but  no 
matter !  The  barin  couldn't  get  along  without  it.  We 
did  not  dare  to  complain  at  this,  but  there  wasn't  sys- 
tem. But  now  your  grace  lets  any  of  us  peasants  see 
your  face,  and  so  a  change  has  come  over  us  ;  and  the 
overseer  is  a  different  kind  of  man.  Now  we  know  for 
sure  that  we  have  a  barin.  And  it  is  impossible  to 
say  how  grateful  your  peasants  are  for  your  kindness. 
But  before  you  came,  there  wasn't  any  real  barin  :  every 
one  was  barin.  Ilyitch  was  barin,  and  his  wife  put  on 
the  airs  of  a  lady,3  and  the  scribe  from  the  police-station 
was  barin.  Too  many  of  em  !  ukh  I  the  peasants  had 
to  put  up  with  many  trials." 

Again  Nekhliudof  experienced  a  feeling  akin  to 
shame  or  remorse.  He  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  on 
his  way. 

1  bdtiushka.  2  raspiititsa.  8  bdruinya. 


28  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


VI. 


"Yukiivanka  the  clever1  wants  to  sell  a  horse," 
was  what  Nekhliudof  next  read  in  his  note-book  ;  and 
he  proceeded  along  the  street  to  Yukhvanka's  place.2 
Yukhvauka's  hut  was  carefully  thatched  with  straw 
from  the  threshing-floor  of  the  estate  ;  the  frame-work 
was  of  new  light-gray  aspen- wood  (also  from  stock 
belonging  to  the  estate),  had  two  handsome  painted 
shutters  for  the  window,  and  a  porch  with  eaves  and 
ingenious  balustrades  cut  out  of  deal  planks. 

The  narrow  entry  and  the  cold  hut  were  also  in  per- 
fect order ;  but  the  general  impression  of  sufficiency 
and  comfort  given  by  this  establishment  was  somewhat 
injured  b}'  a  barn  enclosed  in  the  gates,  which  had  a 
dilapidated  hedge  and  a  sagging  pent  roof,  appearing 
from  behind  it. 

Just  as  Nekhliudof  approached  the  steps  from  one 
side,  two  peasant  women  came  up  on  the  other  carry- 
ing a  tub  full  of  water.  One  was  Yukhvanka's  wife, 
the  other  his  mother. 

The  first  was  a  robust,  healthy-looking  woman, 
with  an  extraordinarily  exuberant  bosom,  and  wide  fat 
cheeks.  She  wore  a  clean  shirt  embroidered  on  the 
sleeves  and  collar,  an  apron  of  the  same  material,  a 
new  linen  skirt,  peasant's  shoes,  a  string  of  beads,  and 
an  elegant  four-cornered  head-dress  of  embroidered  red 
paper  and  spangles. 

1  Yukhv&nka-Mudr'ydnui.  *  dvor. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  29 

The  end  of  the  water-yoke  was  not  in  the  least 
unsteady,  but  was  firmly  settled  on  her  wide  and  solid 
shoulder.  Her  easy  forcefulness,  manifested  in  her 
rosy  face,  in  the  curvature  of  her  back,  and  the  meas- 
ured swing  of  her  arms  and  legs,  made  it  evident  that 
she  had  splendid  health  and  rugged  strength. 

Yukhvanka's  mother,  balancing  the  other  end  of 
the  yoke,  was,  on  the  contrary,  one  of  those  elderly 
women  who  seem  to  have  reached  the  final  limit  of  old 
age  and  decrepitude.  Her  bony  frame,  clad  in  a  black 
dilapidated  shirt  and  a  faded  linen  skirt,  was  bent  so 
that  the  water-yoke  rested  rather  on  her  back  than  on 
her  shoulder.  Her  two  hands,  whose  distorted  fingers 
seemed  to  clutch  the  yoke,  were  of  a  strange  dark 
chestnut  color,  and  were  convulsively  cramped.  Her 
drooping  head,  wrapped  up  in  some  sort  of  a  clout, 
bore  the  most  monstrous  evidences  of  indigence  and 
extreme  old  age. 

From  under  her  narrow  brow,  perfectly  covered  with 
deep  wrinkles,  two  red  eyes,  unprotected  by  lashes, 
gazed  with  leaden  expression  to  the  ground.  One  yel- 
low tooth  protruded  from  her  sunken  upper  lip,  and, 
constantly  moving,  sometimes  came  in  contact  with  her 
sharp  chin.  The  wrinkles  on  the  lower  part  of  her 
face  and  neck  hung  down  like  little  bags,  quivering  at 
every  motion. 

She  breathed  heavily  and  hoarsely ;  but  her  bare, 
distorted  legs,  though  it  seemed  as  if  they  would  have 
barely  strength  to  drag  along  over  the  ground,  moved 
with  measured  steps. 


30  A   RUSS/AN  PROPRIETOR. 


VII. 


Almost  stumbling  against  the  prince,  the  }'0ung 
wife  precipitately  set  down  the  tub,  showed  a  little 
embarrassment,  dropped  a  courtesy,  and  then  with 
shining  eyes  glanced  up  at  him,  and,  endeavoring  to 
hide  a  slight  smile  behind  the  sleeve  of  her  embroid- 
ered shirt,  ran  up  the  steps,  clattering  in  her  wooden 
shoes. 

"  Mother,1  you  take  the  water-yoke  to  aunt  Nasta- 
sia,"  said  she,  pausing  at  the  door,  and  addressing 
the  old  woman. 

The  modest  young  proprietor  looked  sternly  but 
scrutinizingly  at  the  rosy  woman,  frowned,  and  turned 
to  the  old  dame,  who,  seizing  the  yoke  with  her  crooked 
fingers,  submissively  lifted  it  to  her  shoulder,  and  was 
about  to  direct  her  steps  to  the  adjacent  hut. 

"  Your  son  at  home?  "  asked  the  prince. 

The  old  woman,  her  bent  form  bent  more  than  usual, 
made  an  obeisance,  and  tried  to  say  something  in 
reply,  but,  suddenly  putting  her  hand  to  her  mouth, 
was  taken  with  such  a  fit  of  coughing,  that  Nekhliudof 
without  waiting  went  into  the  hut. 

Yukhvauka,  who  had  been  sitting  on  the  bench  in 
the  "red  corner,"'2  when  he  saw  the  prince,  threw 
himself  upon  the  oven,  as  though  he  were  anxious  to 
hide  from  him,  hastily  thrust  something  away  in  the 

1  matwhka. 

*  Where  the  holy  images  and  the  lighted  taper  are  to  be  found. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  31 

loft,  and,  with  mouth  and  eyes  twitching,  squeezed  him- 
self close  to  the  wall,  as  though  to  make  way  for  the 
prince. 

Yukhvanka  was  a  tight-complexioned  fellow,  thirty 
years  of  age,  spare,  with  a  young,  pointed  beard.  He 
was  well  proportioned,  and  rather  handsome,  save  for 
the  unpleasant  expression  of  his  hazel  eyes,  under  his 
knitted  brow,  and  for  the  lack  of  two  front  teeth, 
which  immediately  attracted  one's  attention  because 
his  lips  were  short  and  constantly  parted. 

He  wore  a  Sunday  shirt  with  bright  red  gussets, 
striped  print  drawers,  and  heavy  boots  with  wrinkled 
legs. 

The  interior  of  Vanka's  hut  was  not  as  narrow  and 
gloomy  as  that  of  Churis's,  though  it  was  fully  as 
stifling,  as  redolent  of  smoke  and  sheepskin,  and  show- 
ing as  disorderly  an  array  of  peasant  garments  and 
utensils. 

Two  things  here  strangely  attracted  the  attention,  — 
a  small  damaged  samovar  standing  on  the  shelf,  and  a 
black  frame  near  the  ikon,  with  the  remains  of  a  dirty 
mirror  and  the  portrait  of  some  general  in  a  red 
uniform. 

Nekhiiudof  looked  with  distaste  on  the  samovar,  the 
general's  portrait,  and  the  loft,  where  stuck  out,  from 
under  some  rags,  the  end  of  a  copper-mounted  pipe. 
Then  he  turned  to  the  peasant. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Yepifanf  "  said  he,  looking  into 
his  eyes. 

Yepifan  bowed  low,  and  mumbled,  "  Good-morning, 
'slency,"  '  with  a  peculiar  abbreviation  of  the  last 
word,  while  his  eyes  wandered  restlessly  from  the 
prince  to  the  ceiling,  and  from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor, 

1  vaciaso  for  vashe  sidtelstvo  (your  excellency). 


32  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

:n wl  not  pausing  on  any  thing.  Then  he  hastily  ran  to 
the  loft,  dragged  out  i  c<>:it,  and  began  to  put  it  on. 

41  Why  are  you  putting  on  your  coat?  "  asked  Nekh- 
liudof,  sitting  down  on  the  bench,  and  evidently 
endeavoring  to  look  at  Yepifdn  as  sternly  as  possible. 

44  How  can  I  appear  before  you  without  it,  'slency? 
You  see  we  can  understand  "... 

44 1  have  come  to  ask  you  why  you  need  to  sell  a 
horse?  Have  you  many  horses?  What  horse  do  you 
wish  to  sell?  "  said  the  prince  without  wasting  words, 
but  propounding  questions  that  he  had  evidently  pre- 
considered. 

44  We  are  greatly  beholden  to  you,  'slency,  that  you 
do  not  think  it  beneath  you  to  visit  me,  a  mere  peas- 
ant," replied  Yukhvanka,  casting  hasty  glances  at  the 
general's  portrait,  at  the  stove,  at  the  prince's  boots, 
and  every  thing  else  except  Nekhliudof's  face.  44  We 
always  pray  God  for  your  'slency." 

44  Why  sell  the  horse?  "  repeated  Nekhliudof,  raising 
his  voice,  and  coughing. 

Yukhvanka  sighed,  tossed  back  his  hair  (again  his 
glance  roved  about  the  hut) ,  and  noticing  the  cat  that 
lay  on  the  bench  contentedly  purring,  he  shouted  out 
to  her,  44  Scat,  you  rubbish!  "  and  quickly  addressed 
himself  to  the  barm.  44  A  horse,  'slency,  which  ain't 
worth  any  thing.  If  the  beast  was  good  for  any  thing, 
I  shouldn't  think  of  selling  him,  'slency." 

44  How  many  horses  have  you  in  all?  " 

44  Three  horses,  'slency." 

44  No  colts?" 

44  Of  course,  'slency.     There  is  one  colt." 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  33 


VIII. 

"Come,  show  me  your  horses.  Are  they  in  the 
yard?"1 

"  Indeed  they  are,  'slency.  I  have  done  as  I  was 
told,  'slency.  Could  we  fail  to  heed  you,  'slency? 
Yakof  Ilyitch  told  me  not  to  send  the  horses  out  to 
pasture.  '  The  prince,'  says  he,  '  is  coining  to  look  at 
them,'  and  so  we  didn't  send  them.  For,  of  course, 
we  shouldn't  dare  to  disobey  you,  'slency." 

While  Nekhliudof  was  on  his  way  to  the  door,  Yukh- 
vanka  snatched  down  his  pipe  from  the  loft,  and  flung 
it  into  the  stove.  His  lips  were  still  drawn  in  with 
the  same  expression  of  constraint  as  when  the  prince 
was  looking  at  him. 

A  wretched  little  gray  mare,  with  thin  tail,  all  stuck 
up  with  burrs,  was  sniffing  at  the  filthy  straw  under 
the  pent  roof.  A  long-legged  colt  two  months  old,  of 
some  nondescript  color,  with  bluish  hoofs  and  nose, 
followed  close  behind  her. 

In  the  middle  of  the  yard  stood  a  pot-bellied  brown 
gelding  with  closed  eyes  and  thoughtfully  pendent 
head.  It  was  apparently  an  excellent  little  horse  for 
a  peasant. 

"  So  these  are  all  your  horses?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  'slency.  Here's  still  another  mare, 
and  here's  the  little  colt,"  replied  Yukhvanka,  point- 
ing to  the  horses,  which  the  prince  could  not  help  seeing. 

1  dvor. 


34  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

M  I  see.     Which  one  do  you  propose  to  seU?  " 

41  This  here  one,  'slency,"  he  replied,  waving  his 
jacket  in  the  direction  of  the  somnolent  gelding,  and 
constantly  winking  and  sucking  in  his  lips. 

The  gelding  opened  his  eyes,  and  lazily  switched  his 
tail. 

44  He  does  not  seem  to  be  old,  and  he's  fairly  plump," 
said  Nekhliudof.  44  Bring  him  up,  and  show  me  his 
teeth.     I  can  tell  if  he's  old." 

44  You  can't  tell  by  one  indication,  'slency.  The 
beast  isn't  worth  a  farthing.  He's  peculiar.  You 
have  to  judge  both  by  tooth  and  limb,  'slency,"  replied 
Yukhvanka,  smiling  very  gayly,  and  letting  his  eyes 
rove  in  all  directions. 

44  What  nonsense  !     Bring  him  here,  I  tell  you." 

Yukhvanka  stood  still  smiling,  and  made  a  depreca- 
tory gesture ;  and  it  was  only  when  Nekhliudof  cried 
angrily,  44  Well,  what  are  you  up  to?  "  that  he  moved 
toward  the  shed,  seized  the  halter,  and  began  to  pull 
at  the  horse,  scaring  him,  and  getting  farther  and 
farther  away  as  the  horse  resisted. 

The  young  prince  was  evidently  vexed  to  see  this, 
and  perhaps,  also,  he  wished  to  show  his  own 
shrewdness. 

44  Give  me  the  halter,"  he  cried. 

44  Excuse  me.  It's  impossible  for  you,  'slency,  — 
don't"  .  .  . 

But  Nekhliudof  went  straight  up  to  the  horse's  head, 
and,  suddenly  seizing  him  by  the  ears,  threw  him  to 
the  ground  with  such  force,  that  the  gelding,  who,  as 
it  seems,  was  a  very  peaceful  peasant  steed,  began  to 
kick  and  strangle  in  his  endeavors  to  get  away. 

When  Nekhliudof  perceived  that  it  was  perfectly  use- 
less to  exert  his  strength  so,  and  looked  at  Yukhvanka, 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  35 

who  was  still  smiling,  the  thought  most  maddening  at 
his  time  of  life  occurred  to  him,  —  that  Yukhvanka  was 
laughing  at  him,  and  regarding  him  as  a  mere  child. 

He  reddened,  let  go  of  the  horse's  ears,  and,  with- 
out making  use  of  the  halter,  opened  the  creature's 
mouth,  and  looked  at  his  teeth :  they  were  sound,  the 
crowns  full,  so  far  as  the  young  man  had  time  to  make 
his  observations.  No  doubt  the  horse  was  in  his 
prime. 

Meantime  Yukhvanka  came  to  the  shed,  and,  seeing 
that  the  harrow  was  lying  out  of  its  place,  seized  it,  and 
stood  it  up  against  the  wattled  hedge. 

44  Come  here,"  shouted  the  prince,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  childish  annoyance  in  his  face,  and  almost  with 
tears  of  vexation  and  wrath  in  his  voice.  "What! 
call  this  horse  old?  " 

11  Excuse  me,  'slency,  very  old,  twent}-  years  old  at 
least.     A  horse  that  "... 

44  Silence  !  You  are  a  liar  and  a  good-for-nothing. 
No  decent  peasant  will  lie,  there's  no  need  for  him 
to,"  said  Nekhliudof,  choking  with  the  angry  tears 
that  filled  his  throat. 

He  stopped  speaking,  lest  he  should  be  detected  in 
weeping  before  the  peasant.  Yukhvanka  also  said 
nothing,  and  had  the  appearance  of  a  man  who  was 
almost  on  the  verge  of  tears,  blew  his  nose,  and  slowly 
shook  his  head. 

44  Well,  how  are  you  going  to  plough  when  you  have 
disposed  of  this  horse?  "  continued  Nekhliudof,  calming 
himself  with  an  effort,  so  as  to  speak  in  his  ordinary 
voice.  44  You  are  sent  out  into  the  field  on  purpose  to 
drive  the  horses  for  ploughing,  and  }Tou  wish  to  dis- 
pose of  your  last  horse  ?  And  I  should  like  to  know 
why  you  need  to  lie  about  it." 


36  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIKTOR. 

In  proportion  as  the  prince  calmed  down,  Yukh- 
v:mkaalso  calmed  down.  He  straightened  himself  up, 
:iik1,  while  he  sucked  in  his  lips  constantly,  he  let  his 
eyes  rove  about  from  one  object  to  another. 

44  Lie  to  you,  'slency?  We  are  no  worse  off  than 
others  in  going  to  work." 

44  But  what  will  you  go  on  ?  " 

44  Don't  worry.  We  will  do  your  work,  'slency," 
he  replied,  starting  up  the  gelding,  and  driving  him 
away.  4*  Even  if  we  didn't  need  money,  I  should 
want  to  get  rid  of  him." 

44  Why  do  you  need  money?  " 

44  Haven't  no  grain,  'slency;  and  besides,  we  peas- 
ants have  to  pay  our  debts,  'slency." 

44  How  is  it  you  have  no  grain?  Others  who  have 
families  have  corn  enough  ;  but  you  have  no  family,  and 
you  are  in  want.     Where  is  it  all  goue?  " 

4k  Ate  it  up,  'slency,  and  now  we  haven't  a  bit.  I 
will  bu}'  a  horse  in  the  autumn,  'slency." 

44  Don't  for  a  moment  think  of  selling  your 
horse." 

44  But  if  we  don't  then  what'll  become  of  us,  'slency? 
No  grain,  and  forbidden  to  sell  any  thing,"  he  replied, 
turning  his  head  to  one  side,  sucking  in  his  lips,  and 
suddenly  glancing  boldly  into  the  prince's  face.  44  Of 
course  we  shall  die  of  starvation." 

44  Look  here,  brother,"  cried  Nekhliudof,  paling,  and 
experiencing  a  feeling  of  righteous  indignation  against 
the  peasant.  44I  can't  endure  such  peasants  as  you 
are.     It  will  go  hard  with  you." 

44  Just  as  you  will,  'slency,"  he  replied,  shutting  his 
eyes  with  an  expression  of  feigned  submission:  4'I 
should  not  think  of  disobeying  you.  But  it  comes  not 
from  any  fault  of  mine.     Of  course,  I  may  not  please 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  37 

you,  'slency  ;  at  all  events,  I  can  do  as  you  wish  ;  only 
1  don't  see  why  I  deserve  to  be  punished." 

"This  is  why:  because  your  yard  is  exposed,  your 
manure  is  not  ploughed  in,  your  hedges  are  broken 
clown,  and  yet  you  sit  at  home  smoking  your  pipe,  and 
don't  work ;  because  you  don't  give  a  crust  of  bread 
to  your  mother,  who  gave  you  your  whole  place,1  and 
you  let  your  wife  beat  her,  and  she  has  to  come  to  me 
with  her  complaints." 

"Excuse  me,  'slency,  I  don't  know  what  you  mean 
by  smoking  your  pipe,"  replied  Yukhvanka  in  a  con- 
strained tone,  showing  beyond  peradventure  that  the 
complaint  about  his  smoking  touched  him  to  the  quick. 
"  It  is  possible  to  say  any  thing  about  a  man." 

"  Now  you're  lying  again  !     I  myself  saw  "   .  . 

"  How  could  I  venture  to  lie  to  you,  'slency?  " 

Nekhliudof  made  no  answer,  but  bit  his  lip,  and  be- 
gan to  walk  back  and  forth  in  the  yard.  Yukhvanka, 
standing  in  one  place,  and  not  lifting  his  eyes,  followed 
the  prince's  legs. 

"  See  here,  Yepifan,"  said  Nekhliudof  in  a  childishly 
gentle  voice,  coming  to  a  pause  before  the  peasant, 
and  endeavoring  to  hide  his  vexation,  "it  is  impossi- 
ble to  live  so,  and  you  are  working  your  own  destruc- 
tion. Just  think.  If  you  want  to  be  a  good  peasant, 
then  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  cease  your  evil  courses,  stop 
lying,  don't  get  drunk  any  more,  honor  your  mother. 
You  see,  I  know  all  about  you.  Take  hold  of  your 
work ;  don't  steal  from  the  crown  woods,  for  the  sake 
of  going  to  the  tavern.  Think  how  well  off  you  might 
be.  If  you  really  need  any  thing,  then  come  to  me ; 
tell  me  honestly,  what  you  need  and  why  you  need  it ; 
and  don't  tell  lies,  but  tell  the  whole  truth,  and  then 

1  khozydistvo. 


38  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

I  won't  refuse  you  any  thing  that  I  can  possibly 
grant." 

u  Excuse  me,  'slency,  I  think  I  understand  you, 
'slency,"  replied  Yukhvanka  smiling  as  though  he 
comprehended  the  entire  significance  of  the  prince's 
words. 

That  smile  and  answer  completely  disenchanted 
Nekhliudof  so  far  as  he  had  any  hope  of  reforming 
the  man  aud  of  turning  him  into  the  path  of  virtue  by 
means  of  moral  suasion.  It  seemed  to  him  hard  that 
it  should  be  wasted  energy  when  he  had  the  power  to 
warn  the  peasant,  and  that  all  that  he  had  said  was 
exactly  what  he  should  not  have  said. 

He  shook  his  head  gravely,  and  went  into  the  house. 
The  old  woman  was  sitting  on  the  threshold  and  groan- 
ing heavily,  as  it  seemed  to  the  young  proprietor  as  a 
sign  of  approbation  of  his  words  which  she  had  over- 
heard. 

M  Here's  something  for  you  to  get  bread  with,"  said 
Nekhliudof  iu  her  ear,  pressing  a  bank-note  into  her 
hand.  "  But  keep  it  for  yourself,  and  don't  give  it  to 
Yepifan,  else  he'll  drink  it  up." 

The  old  woman  with  her  distorted  hand  laid  hold  of 
the  doorpost,  and  tried  to  get  up.  She  began  to  pour 
out  her  thanks  to  the  prince  ;  her  head  began  to  wag, 
but  Nekhliudof  was  already  on  the  other  side  of  the 
street  when  she  got  to  her  feet. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  39 


IX. 


"  Davtdka  Byelui1  asks  for  grain  and  posts,"  was 
what  followed  Yukhvanka's  case  in  the  note-book. 

After  passing  by  a  number  of  places,  Nekhliudof 
came  to  a  turn  in  the  lane,  and  there  fell  in  with  his 
overseer  Yakof  Alpatiteh,  who,  while  the  prince  was 
still  at  a  distance,  took  off  his  oiled  cap,  and  pulling 
out  a  crumpled  bandanna  handkerchief  began  to  wipe 
his  fat  red  face. 

44  Cover  yourself,  Yakof!  Yakof,  cover  yourself,  I 
tell  you." 

44  Where  do  you  wish  to  go,  your  excellency  ?  "  asked 
Yakof,  using  his  cap  to  shield  his  eyes  from  the  sun, 
but  not  putting  it  on. 

44  I  have  been  at  Yrukhvanka's.  Tell  me,  pray,  why 
does  he  act  so  ?  "  asked  the  prince  as  he  -walked  along 
the  street. 

u  Why  indeed,  your  excellency  !  "  echoed  the  over- 
seer as  he  followed  behind  the  prince  in  a  respectful 
attitude.  He  put  on  his  cap,  and  began  to  twist  his 
mustache. 

44  What's  to  be  done  with  him?  He's  thoroughly 
good  for  nothing,  lazy,  thievish,  a  liar ;  he  persecutes 
his  mother,  and  to  all  appearances  he  is  such  a  con- 
firmed good-for-nothing  that  there  is  no  reforming 
him." 

44 1  didn't  know,  }*our  excellency,  that  he  displeased 
you  so." 

1  Little  David  White. 


40  A  RUSS/AN  PROPRIETOR. 

"  And  his  wife,"  continued  the  prince,  interrupting 
the  overseer,  "seems  like  a  bad  woman.  The  old 
mother  is  divssed  worse  than  a  beggar,  and  has  nothing 
to  eat  ;  hut  she  wears  all  her  best  clothes,  and  SO  does 
he.  I  really  don't  know  what  is  to  be  done  with 
them/' 

Yakof  knit  his  brows  thoughtfully  when  Nekhliudof 
spoke  of  Yukhvanka's  wife. 

•  Well,  if  he  behaves  so,  your  excellency,"  began 
the  overseer,  M  then  it  will  be  necessary  to  find  some 
way  to  correct  things.  He  is  in  abject  poverty  like 
all  the  peasants  who  have  no  assistance,  but  he  seems 
to  mauage  his  affairs  quite  differently  from  the  others. 
He's  a  clever  fellow,  knows  how  to  read,  and  he's  far 
from  being  a  dishonest  peasant.  At  the  collection  of 
the  poll-taxes  he  was  always  on  hand.  And  for  three 
years,  while  I  was  overseer  he  was  bailiff,  and  no 
fault  was  found  with  him.  In  the  third  year  the  war- 
den took  it  into  his  head  to  depose  him,  so  he  was 
obliged  to  take  to  farming.  Perhaps  when  he  lived  in 
town  at  the  station  he  got  drunk  sometimes,  so  we 
had  to  devise  some  means.  They  used  to  threaten  him, 
in  fun,  and  he  came  to  his  senses  again.  He  was  good- 
natured,  and  got  along  well  with  his  family.  But  as  it 
does  not  please  you  to  use  these  means,  I  am  sure  I 
don't  know  what  we  are  to  do  with  him.  He  has  really 
got  very  low.  He  can't  be  sent  into  the  army,  because, 
as  you  may  be  pleased  to  remember,  two  of  his  teeth 
are  missing.  Yes,  and  there  are  others  besides  him, 
I  venture  to  remind  you,  who  absolutely  haven't 
any"  .  .  . 

"Enough  of  that,  Yakof,"  interrupted  Nekhliudof, 
smiling  shrewdly.  "  You  and  I  have  discussed  that 
again  and  again.     You  know  what  ideas  I  have  on  this 


A    RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  41 

subject ;  and  whatever  you  may  say  to  me,  I  still  remain 
of  the  same  opinion." 

"  Certainly,  your  excellency,  j7ou  understand  it  all," 
said  Yakof,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  and  looking  ask- 
ance at  the  prince  as  though  what  he  saw  were  worthy 
of  no  consideration.  "  But  as  far  as  the  old  woman  is 
concerned,  I  beg  you  to  see  that  you  are  disturbing 
yourself  to  no  purpose,"  he  continued.  "Certainly  it 
is  true  that  she  has  brought  up  the  orphans,  she  has 
fed  Yukhvanka,  and  got  him  a  wife,  and  so  forth  ;  but 
you  know  that  is  common  enough  among  peasants. 
When  the  mother  or  father  has  transferred  the  property1 
to  the  son,  then  the  new  owners  get  control,  and  the 
old  mother  is  obliged  to  work  for  her  own  living  to  the 
utmost  of  her  strength.  Of  course  they  are  lacking 
in  delicate  feelings,  but  this  is  common  enough  among 
the  peasantry  ;  and  so  I  take  the  liberty  of  explaining 
to  you  that  you  are  stirred  up  about  the  old  woman  all 
for  nothing.  She  is  a  clever  old  woman,  and  a  good 
housewife ; 2  is  there  any  reason  for  a  gentleman  to 
worry  over  her?  Well,  she  has  quarrelled  with  her 
daughter-in-law  ;  maybe  the  young  woman  struck  her : 
that's  like  a  woman,  and  they  would  make  up  again 
while  you  torment  yourself.  You  really  take  it  all  too 
much  to  heart,"  said  the  overseer  looking  with  a  cer- 
tain expression  of  fondness  mingled  with  condescen- 
sion at  the  prince,  who  was  walking  silently  with  long 
strides  before  him  up  the  street. 

M  Will  you  go  home  now?  "  he  added. 

u  No,  to  Davidka  Byelui's  or  Kazyol's —  what  is  his 
name  ? ' ' 

"  Well,  he's  a  good-for-nothing,  I  assure  you.  All 
the   race   of   the   Kazyols   are   of   the   same   sort.     I 

1  khozydistvo.  s  khozydika. 


42  A   RUSStAN  PROPRIETOR. 

haven't  had  any  success  with  him  ;  he  cares  for  noth- 
ing. Yesterday  I  rode  past  the  peasant's  field,  and 
his  buckwheat  wasn't  even  sowed  yet.  What  do  you 
wish  done  with  such  people?  The  old  man  taught  his 
son,  but  still  he's  a  good-for-nothing  just  the  same ; 
whether  for  himself  or  for  the  estate,  he  makes  a 
bungle  of  every  thing.  Neither  the  warden  nor  I  have 
been  able  to  do  any  thing  with  him :  we've  sent  him  to 
the  station-house,  and  we've  punished  him  at  home, 
because  you  are  pleased  now  to  like  "... 

"Who?  the  old  man?" 

"Yes,  the  old  man.  The  warden  more  than  once 
has  punished  him  before  the  whole  assembly,  and,  would 
you  believe  it?  he  would  shake  himself,  go  home,  and 
be  as  bad  as  ever.  And  Davidka,  I  assure  }'our  excel- 
lency, is  a  law-abiding  peasant,  and  a  quick-witted 
peasant ;  that  is,  he  doesn't  smoke  and  doesn't  drink," 
explained  Yakof  ;  M  and  yet  he's  worse  than  the  other 
who  gets  drunk.  There's  nothing  else  to  do  with  him 
than  to  make  a  soldier  of  him  or  send  him  to  Siberia. 
All  the  Kazyols  are  the  same ;  and  Matriushka  who 
lives  in  the  village  belongs  to  their  family,  and  is  the 
same  sort  of  cursed  good-for-nothing.  Don't  you  care 
to  have  me  here,  your  excellency?  "  inquired  the  over- 
seer, perceiving  that  the  prince  did  not  heed  what  he 
was  saying. 

"  No,  go  away,"  replied  Nekhliudof  absent-mind- 
edly, and  turned  his  steps  toward  Davidka  Byelui's. 

Davidka's  hovel1  stood  askew  and  alone  at  the  very 
edge  of  the  village.  It  had  neither  yard,  nor  cornkiln, 
nor  barn.  Only  some  sort  of  dirty  stalls  for  cattle  were 
built  against  one  side.  On  the  other  a  heap  of  brush- 
wood and  logs  was  piled  up,  in  imitation  of  a  yard.2 
»  izba.  »  dvor. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  43 

Tall  green  steppe-grass  was  growing  in  the  place 
where  the  court-yard  should  have  been. 

There  was  no  living  creature  to  be  seen  near  the 
hovel,  except  a  sow  lying  in  the  mire  at  the  threshold, 
and  grunting. 

Nekhliudof  tapped  at  the  broken  window  ;  but  as  no 
one  made  answer,  he  went  into  the  entry  and  shouted, 
"  Holloa  there  !  "l 

'  This  also  brought  no  response.  He  passed  through 
the  entry,  peered  into  the  empty  stalls,  and  entered  the 
open  hut. 

An  old  red  cock  and  two  hens  with  ruffs  were  scratch- 
ing with  their  legs,  and  strutting  about  over  the  floor 
and  benches.  When  they  saw  a  man  they  spread 
their  wings,  and,  cackling  with  terror,  flew  against  the 
walls,  and  one  took  refuge  on  the  oven. 

The  whole  hut,  which  was  not  quite  fourteen  feet2 
square,  was  occupied  by  the  oven  with  its  broken  pipe, 
a  loom,  which  in  spite  of  its  being  summer-time  was 
not  taken  down,  and  a  most  filthy  table  made  of  a 
split  and  uneven  plank. 

Although  it  was  a  dry  situation,  there  was  a  filthy 
puddle  at  the  door,  caused  by  the  recent  rain,  which 
had  leaked  through  roof  and  ceiling.  Loft  there  was 
none.  It  was  hard  to  realize  that  this  was  a  human 
habitation,  such  decided  evidence  of  neglect  and  dis- 
order was  impressed  upon  both  the  exterior  and  the 
interior  of  the  hovel ;  nevertheless,  in  this  hovel  lived 
Davidka  Byelui  and  all  his  family. 

At  the  present  moment,  notwithstanding  the  heat  of 
the  June  day,  Davidka,  with  his  head  covered  by  his 
sheep-skin,3  was  fast  asleep,  curled  up  on  one  corner  of 

1  khozyaeva  ;  literally,  "  master  and  mistress." 
8  Six  ara/dn.  2  polushubok. 


44  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

the  oven.  The  panic-stricken  hen,  skipping  up  on  the 
oven,  and  growing  more  and  more  agitated,  took  up 
her  position  on  Davidka's  back,  but  did  not  awaken 
hiin. 

Nekhliudof,  seeing  no  one  in  the  hovel,  was  about 
to  go,  when  a  prolonged  humid  sigh  betrayed  the 
sleeper.  * 

44  Holloa!  who's  there?*'  cried  the  prince. 

A  second  prolonged  sigh  was  heard  from  the  oven. 

44  Who's  there  ?    Come  here  !  " 

Still  another  sigh,  a  sort  of  a  bellow,  and  a  heavy 
yawn  responded  to  the  priuce's  call. 

44  Well,  who  are  you?  " 

Something  moved  slightly  on  the  oven.  The  skirt 
of  a  torn  sheep-skin 2  was  lifted ;  one  huge  leg  in  a 
dilapidated  boot  was  put  down,  then  another,  and 
finally  Davidka's  entire  figure  emerged.  He  sat  up  on 
the  oven,  and  rubbed  his  eyes  drowsily  and  morosely 
with  his  fist. 

Slowly  shaking  his  head,  and  yawning,  he  looked 
down  into  the  hut,  and,  seeing  the  prince,  began  to 
make  greater  haste  than  before ;  but  still  his  motions 
were  so  slow,  that  Nekhliudof  had  time  to  walk  back 
and  forth  three  times  from  the  puddle  to  the  loom 
before  Davidka  got  down  from  the  oven. 

Davidka  Byelui  or  David  White  was  white  in  reality  : 
his  hair,  and  his  body,  and  his  face  all  were  perfectly 
white. 

He  was  tall  and  very  stout,  but  stout  as  peasants 
are  wont  to  be,  that  is,  not  in  the  waist  alone,  but  in 
the  whole  body.  His  stoutness,  however,  was  of  a 
peculiar  flabby,  unhealthy  kind.  His  rather  comely 
face,  with  pale-blue  good-natured  eyes,  and  a  wide 

1  khozykin.  *  tulup. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  45 

trimmed  beard,  bore  the  impress  of  ill  health.  There 
was  not  the  slightest  trace  of  tan  or  blood :  it  was  of 
a  uniform  yellowish  ashen  tint,  with  pale  livid  circles 
under  the  eyes,  quite  as  though  his  face  were  stuffed 
with  fat  or  bloated. 

His  hands  were  puffy  and  yellow,  like  the  hands  of 
men  afflicted  with  dropsy,  and  they  wore  a  growth 
of  fine  white  hair.  He  was  so  drowsy  that  he  could 
scarcely  open  his  eyes  or  cease  from  staggering  and 
yawning. 

"Well,  aren't  jtou  ashamed  of  yourself,"  began 
Nekhliudof,  "sleeping  in  the  very  best  part  of  the 
day,1  when  you  ought  to  be  attending  to  your  work, 
when  you  haven't  any  corn?  " 

As  Davidka  little  by  little  shook  off  his  drowsiness, 
and  began  to  realize  that  it  was  the  prince  who  was 
standing  before  him,  he  folded  his  arms  across  his 
stomach,  hung  his  head,  inclining  it  a  trifle  to  one 
side,  and  did  not  move  a  limb  or  say  a  word  ;  but  the 
expression  of  his  face  and  the  pose  of  his  whole  body 
seemed  to  say,  "I  know,  I  know;  it  is  an  old  story 
with  me.  Well,  strike  me,  if  it  must  be  :  I  will  endure 
it." 

He  evidently  was  anxious  for  the  prince  to  get 
through  speaking  and  give  him  his  thrashing  as 
quickly  as  possible,  even  if  he  struck  him  severely  on 
his  swollen  cheeks,  and  then  leave  him  in  peace. 

Perceiving  that  Davidka  did  not  understand  him, 
Nekhliudof  endeavored  by  various  questions  to  rouse 
the  peasant  from  his  vexatiously  obstinate  silence. 

"  Why  have  you  asked  me  for  wood  when  3'ou  have 
enough  to  last  you  a  whole  month  here,  and  you 
haven't  had  any  thing  to  do?     What?  " 

1  Literally,  "  middle  of  the  white  day." 


46  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

Davidka  still  remained  silent,  and  did  not  move. 

44  Well,  answer  me." 

Davidka  muttered  something,  and  blinked  his  white 
eyelashes. 

44  You  must  go  to  work,  brother.  What  will  be- 
come of  you  if  you  don't  work?  Now  you  have  no 
grain,  and  what's  the  reason  of  it?  Because  your  land 
is  badly  ploughed,  and  not  harrowed,  and  no  seed  put 
In  at  the  right  time,  —  all  from  laziness.  You  asked 
me  for  grain  :  well,  let  us  suppose  that  I  gave  it  to 
you,  so  as  to  keep  you  from  starving  to  death,  still  it 
is  not  becoming  to  do  so.  Whose  grain  do  I  give 
you  ?  whose  do  you  think  ?  Answer  me,  —  whose  grain 
do  I  give  you?  "  demanded  Nekhliudof  obstinately. 

44  The  Lord's,"  muttered  Davidka,  raising  his  ej-es 
timidly  and  question ingly. 

44  But  where  did  the  Lord's  grain  come  from  ?  Think 
for  yourself,  who  ploughed  for  it  ?  who  harrowed  ?  who 
planted  it?  who  harvested  it?  The  peasants,  hey? 
Just  look  here :  if  the  Lord's  grain  is  given  to  the 
peasants,  then  those  peasants  who  work  most  will  get 
most ;  but  you  work  less  than  anybody.  You  are  com- 
plained about  on  all  sides.  You  work  less  than  all  the 
others,  and  yet  you  ask  for  more  of  the  Lord's  grain 
than  all  the  "rest.  Why  should  it  be  given  to  you,  and 
not  to  the  others?  Now,  if  all,  like  you,  lay  on  their 
backs,  it  would  not  be  long  before  everybody  in  the 
world  died  of  starvation.  Brother,  you've  got  to  labor. 
This  is  disgraceful.     Do  you  hear,  David?  " 

44  I  hear  you,"  said  the  other  slowly  through  his 
teeth. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  47 


At  this  moment,  the  window  was  darkened  by  the 
head  of  a  peasant  woman  who  passed  carrying  some 
linen  on  a  3Toke,  and  presently  Davidka's  mother  came 
into  the  hovel.  She  was  a  tall  woman,  fifty  years 
old  very  fresh  and  lively.  Her  ugly  face  was  covered 
with  pock-marks  and  wrinkles ;  but  her  straight,  firm 
nose,  her  delicate,  compressed  lips,  and  her  keen 
gray  eyes  gave  witness  to  her  mental  strength  and 
energy. 

The  angularity  of  her  shoulders,  the  flatness  of  her 
chest,  the  thinness  of  her  hands,  and  the  solid  muscles 
of  her  black  bare  legs,  made  it  evident  that  she  had 
long  ago  ceased  to  be  a  woman,  and  had  become  a 
mere  drudge. 

She  came  hurrying  into  the  hovel,  shut  the  door,  set 
down  her  linen,  and  looked  angrily  at  her  son. 

Nekhliudof  was  about  to  say  something  to  her,  but 
she  turned  her  back  on  him,  and  began  to  cross  herself 
before  the  black  wooden  ikon,  that  was  visible  behind 
the  loom. 

When  she  had  thus  done,  she  adjusted  the  dirty 
checkered  handkerchief  which  was  tied  around  her 
head,  and  made  a  low  obeisance  to  the  prince. 

UA  pleasant  Lord's  day  to  you,  excellency,"  she 
said.     "  God  spare  you  ;  you  are  our  father." 

When  Davidka  saw  his  mother  he  grew  confused, 
bent  his  back  a  little,  and  hung  his  head  still  lower. 


48  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

"Thanks,  Arina,"  replied  Nckhliudof.  "I  have 
just  been  talking  with  your  son  about  your  affairs.1 

Arina  or  Ar*ahkft  KiirMIr,8  as  the  peasants  used  to 
call  her  when  she  was  a  girl,  rested  her  chin  on  the 
clinched  fist  of  her  right  hand,  which  she  supported 
with  the  palm  of  the  left,  and,  without  waiting  for  the 
prince  to  speak  further,  began  to  talk  so  sharply  and 
loud  that  the  whole  hovel  was  filled  with  the  sound 
of  her  voice ;  and  from  outside  it  might  have  been 
concluded  that  several  women  had  suddenly  fallen  into 
a  discussion. 

"  What,  my  father,  what  is  then  to  be  said  to  him? 
You  can't  talk  to  him  as  to  a  man.  Here  he  stands, 
the  lout,"  she  continued  contemptuously,  wagging  her 
head  in  the  direction  of  Davidka's  woe-begone,  stolid 
form. 

"  How  are  my  affairs,  your  excellency?  We  are 
poor.  In  your  whole  village  there  are  none  so  bad  off 
as  we  are,  either  for  our  own  work  or  for  yours.  It's 
a  shame !  And  it's  all  his  fault.  I  bore  him,  fed 
him,  gave  him  to  drink.  Didn't  expect  to  have  such  a 
lubber.  There  is  but  one  end  to  the  story.  Grain  is 
all  gone,  and  no  more  work  to  be  got  out  of  him  than 
from  that  piece  of  rotten  wood.  All  he  knows  is  to  lie 
on  top  of  the  oven,  or  else  he  stands  here,  and  scratches 
his  empty  pate,"  she  said,  mimicking  him. 

"  If  you  could  only  frighten  him,  father  !  I  m3Tself 
beseech  you :  punish  him,  for  the  Lord  God's  sake ! 
send  him  off  as  a  soldier,  —  it's  all  one.  But  he's  no 
good  to  me,  —  that's  the  way  it  is." 

u  Now,  aren't  you  ashamed,  Davidka,  to  bring 
your  mother  to  this?  "  said  Nekhliudof  reproachfully, 
addressing  the  peasant. 

1  khozyMstvo.  8  clod-hopper. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  49 

Davidka  did  not  move. 

"  One  might  think  that  he  was  a  sick  peasant,"  con- 
tinued Arina,  with  the  same  eagerness  and  the  same 
gestures ;  "  but  only  to  look  at  him  you  can  see  he's 
fatter  than  the  pig  at  the  mill.  It  would  seem  as  if 
he  might  have  strength  enough  to  work  on  something, 
the  lubber  !  But  no,  not  he  !  He  prefers  to  curl  him- 
self up  on  top  of  the  oven.  And  even  when  he  under- 
takes to  do  any  thing,  it  would  make  you  sick  even  to 
look  at  him,  the  way  he  goes  about  the  work!  He 
wastes  time  when  he  gets  up,  when  he  moves,  when  he 
does  any  thing,"  said  she,  dwelling  on  the  words,  and 
awkwardly  swaying  from  side  to  side  with  her  angular 
shoulders. 

"  Now,  here  to-day  my  old  man  himself  went  to  the 
forest  after  wood,  and  told  him  to  dig  a  hole ;  but  he 
did  not  even  put  his  hand  to  the  shovel." 

She  paused  for  a  moment. 

"He  has  killed  me,"  she  suddenly  hissed,  gesticu- 
lating with  her  arms,  and  advancing  toward  her  son 
with  threatening  gesture.  "Curse  your  smooth,  bad 
face!" 

She  scornfully,  and  at  the  same  time  despairingly, 
turned  from  him,  spat,  and  again  addressed  the  prince 
with  the  same  animation,  still  swinging  her  arms,  but 
with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  the  only  one,  benefactor.  My  old  man  is 
sick,  old :  yes,  and  I  get  no  help  out  of  him ;  and  I 
am  the  only  one  at  all.  And  this  fellow  hangs  around 
my  neck  Tike  a  stone.  If  he  would  only  die,  then  it 
would  be  easier  ;  that  would  be  the  end  of  it.  He  lets 
me  starve,  the  poltroon.  You  are  our  father.  There's 
no  help  for  me.  My  daughter-in-law  died  of  work, 
and  I  shall  too." 


50  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XI. 


"  How  did  she  die?"  inquired  Nekhliudof,  somewhat 
sceptically. 

"  She  died  of  hard  work,  as  God  knows,  benefactor. 
We  brought  her  last  year  from  Baburin,"  she  con- 
tinued, suddenly  changing  her  wrathful  expression  to 
one  of  tearfulness  and  grief.  "  Well,  the  woman  * 
was  young,  fresh,  obliging,  good  stuff.  As  a  girl,  she 
lived  at  home  with  her  father  in  clover,  never  knew 
want ;  and  when  she  came  to  us,  then  she  learned  to 
do  our  work,  —  for  the  estate  and  at  home  and  every- 
where. .  .  .  She  and  I — that  was  all  to  do  it.  What 
was  it  to  me?  I  was  used  to  it.  She  was  going  to 
have  a  baby,  good  father;  and  she  began  to  suffer 
pain  ;  and  all  because  she  worked  beyond  her  strength. 
Well,  she  did  herself  harm,  the  poor  little  sweetheart. 
Last  summer,  about  the  time  of  the  feast  of  Peter  and 
Paul,  she  had  a  poor  little  boy  born.  But  there  was 
no  bread.  We  ate  whatever  we  could  get,  my  father. 
She  went  to  work  too  soon :  her  milk  all  dried  up. 
The  baby  was  her  first-born.  There  was  no  cow,  and 
we  were  mere  peasants.  She  had  to  feed  him  on  rye. 
Well,  of  course,  it  was  sheer  folly.  It  kept  pining 
awa}r  on  this.  And  when  the  child  died,  she  became 
so  down-spirited,  —  she  would  sob  and  sob,  and  howl 
and  howl;  and  then  it  was  poverty  and  work,  and  all 
the  time  going  from  bad  to  worse.     So  she  passed 

1  baba. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  51 

away  in  the  summer,  the  sweetheart,  at  the  time  of 
the  feast  of  St.  Mary's  Intercession.  He  brought  her 
to  it,  the  beast,"  she  cried,  turning  to  her  son  with 
wrathful  despair.  "  I  wanted  to  ask  your  excellency 
a  favor,"  she  continued  after  a  short  pause,  lowering 
her  voice,  and  making  an  obeisance. 

44  What?  "  asked  Nekhliudof  in  some  constraint. 

"You  see  he's  a  young  peasant  still.  He  demands 
so  much  work  of  me.  To-day  I  am  alive,  to-morrow 
I  may  die.  How  can  he  live  without  a  wife?  He 
won't  be  any  good  to  you  at  all.  Help  us  to  find  some 
one  for  him,  good  father." 

"  That  is,  you  want  to  get  a  wife  for  him?  What? 
What  an  idea  !  " 

44  God's  will  be  done !  You  are  in  the  place  of 
parents  to  us." 

And  after  making  a  sign  to  her  son,  she  and  the 
man  threw  themselves  on  the  floor  at  the  prince's  feet. 

44  Why  do  you  stoop  to  the  ground?"  asked  Nekh- 
liudof peevishly,  taking  her  by  the  shoulder.  44  You 
know  I  don't  like  this  sort  of  thing.  Marry  your  son, 
of  course,  if  you  have  a  girl  in  view.  I  should  be 
very  glad  if  you  had  a  daughter-in-law  to  help  you." 

The  old  woman  got  up,  and  began  to  rub  her  dry 
eyes  with  her  sleeves.  Davidka  followed  her  example, 
and,  rubbing  his  eyes  with  his  weak  fist,  with  the  same 
patiently-submissive  expression,  continued  to  stand, 
and  listen  to  what  Arina  said. 

44  Plenty  of  brides,  certainly.  Here's  Vasiutka 
Mikheikin's  daughter,  and  a  right  good  girl  she  is  ;  but 
the  girl  would  not  come  to  us  without  your  consent." 

44  Isn't  she  willing?  " 

44  No,  benefactor,  she  isn't." 

44  Well,  what's  to  be  done?    I  can't  compel  her. 


52  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

Select  some  one  else.  If  you  can't  find  one  at  home, 
go  to  another  village.  I  will  pay  for  her,  only  she 
must  come  of  her  own  free  will.  It  is  impossible  to 
marry  her  by  force.  There's  no  law  allows  that ;  that 
would  be  a  great  sin." 

"  E~e~kh  I  benefactor!  Is  it  possible  that  anyone 
would  come  to  us  of  her  own  accord,  seeing  our  way 
of  life,  our  wretchedness?  Not  even  the  wife  of  a 
soldier  would  like  to  undergo  such  want.  What  peasant 
would  let  us  have  his  daughter?1  It  is  not  to  be 
expected.  You  see  we're  in  the  very  depths  of  pov- 
erty. They  will  say,  '  Since  you  starved  one  to  death, 
it  will  be  the  same  with  my  daughter.'  Who  is  to 
give  her?"  she  added,  shaking  her  head  dubiously. 
44  Give  us  your  advice,  excellency." 

"Well,  what  can  I  do?" 

"  Think  of  some  one  for  us,  kind  sir,"  repeated 
Arina  urgently.     "  What  are  we  to  do?  " 

44  How  can  I  think  of  any  one?  I  can't  do  any 
thing  at  all  for  you  as  things  are."  • 

44  Who  will  help  us  if  you  do  not?"  said  Arina, 
drooping  her  head,  and  spreading  her  palms  with  an 
expression  of  melancholy  discontent. 

44  Here  you  ask  for  grain,  and  so  I  will  give  orders 
for  some  to  be  delivered  to  you,"  said  the  prince  after 
a  short  silence,  during  which  Arina  sighed,  and 
Davidka  imitated  her.  44But  I  cannot  do  anything 
more. 

Nekhliudof  went  into  the  entry.  Mother  and  son 
with  low  bows  followed  the  prince. 

1  dyevka,  marriageable  girl. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  53 


XII. 


"  O-okh  !  alas  for  my  wretchedness!"  exclaimed 
Arina,  sighing  deeply. 

She  paused,  and  looked  angrily  at  her  son.  Davidka 
immediately  turned  around,  and,  clumsily  lifting  his 
stout  leg  incased  in  a  huge  dirty  boot  over  the  thresh- 
old, took  refuge  in  the  opposite  door. 

"What  shall  I  do  with  him,  father?"  continued 
Arina,  turning  to  the  prince.  "  You  yourself  see  what 
he  is.  He  is  not  a  bad  man  ; 1  doesn't  get  drunk,  and 
is  peaceable ;  wouldn't  hurt  a  little  child.  It's  a  sin 
to  say  hard  things  of  him.  There's  nothing  bad  about 
him,  and  God  knows  what  has  taken  place  in  him  to 
make  him  so  bad  to  himself.  You  see  he  himself  does 
not  like  it.  Would  you  believe  it,  father,2  my  heart 
bleeds  when  I  look  at  him,  and  see  what  suffering  he 
undergoes.  You  see,  whatever  he  is,  he  is  my  son. 
I  pity  him.  Oh,  how  I  pity  him !  .  .  .  You  see,  it 
isn't  as  though  he  had  done  any  thing  against  me  or 
his  father  or  the  authorities.  But,  no :  he's  a  bashful 
man,  almost  like  a  child.  How  can  he  bear  to  be  a 
widower?  Help  us  out,  benefactor,"  she  said  once 
more,  evidently  desirous  of  removing  the  unfavorable 
impression  which  her  bitter  words  might  have  left  upon 
the  prince.  "Father,  your  excellency,  I" —  She 
went  on  to  say  in  a  confidential  whisper,  "  My  wit 

1  muzhik.  8  bdtiushka. 


54  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

does  not  go  far  enough  to  explain  him.  It  seems  as 
though  bad  men  had  spoiled  him." 

She  paused  for  a  momeut. 

M  If  we  could  find  the  men,  we  might  cure  him." 

44  What  nonsense  you  talk,  Ariua  !  How  can  he  be 
spoiled  ? ' ' 

"My  father,  they  spoil  him  so  that  they  make  him 
a  no-man  forever !  Many  bad  people  in  the  world ! 
Out  of  ill-will  they  take  a  handful  of  earth  from  out 
of  oue's  path,  or  something  of  that  sort ;  and  one  is 
made  a  no-man  forever  after.  Isn't  that  a  sin?  I 
think  to  myself,  Might  I  not  go  to  the  old  man  Danduk, 
who  lives  at  Vorobyevka  ?  He  knows  all  sorts  of  words  ; 
and  he  knows  herbs,  and  he  can  make  charms ;  and  he 
finds  water  with  a  cross.  Wouldn't  he  help  me?" 
said  the  woman.     "  Maybe  he  will  cure  him." 

"What  abjectness  and  superstition!"  thought  the 
young  prince,  shaking  his  head  gloomily,  and  walking 
back  with  long  strides  through  the  village. 

"What's  to  be  done  with  him?  To  leave  him  in 
this  situation  is  impossible,  both  for  myself  and  for 
the  others  and  for  him,  —  impossible,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, counting  off  on  his  fingers  these  reasons. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  see  him  in  this  plight;  but  how 
extricate  him?  He  renders  nugatory  all  my  best  plans 
for  the  management  of  the  estate.  If  such  peasants 
are  allowed,  none  of  my  dreams  will  ever  be  realized," 
he  went  on,  experiencing  a  feeling  of  despite  and 
anger  against  the  peasant  in  consequence  of  the  ruin 
of  his  plans.  "  To  send  him  to  Siberia,  as  Yakof 
suggests,  against  his  will,  would  that  be  good  for  him? 
or  to  make  him  a  soldier?  That  is  best.  At  least  I 
should  be  quit  of  him,  and  I  could  replace  him  by  a 
decent  peasant." 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  55 

Such  was  his  decision. 

He  thought  about  this  with  satisfaction ;  but  at  the 
same  time  something  obscurely  told  him  that  he  was 
thinking  with  only  one  side  of  his  mind,  and  not 
wholly  right. 

He  paused. 

"  I  will  think  about  it  some  more,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "To  send  him  off  as  a  soldier  —  why?  He  is 
a  good  man,  better  than  many ;  and  I  know  .  .  . 
Shall  I  free  him?  "  he  asked  himself,  putting  the  ques- 
tion from  a  different  side  of  his  mind.  "It  wouldn't 
be  fair.     Yes,  it's  impossible." 

But  suddenly  a  thought  occurred  to  him  that  greatly 
pleased  him.  He  smiled  with  the  expression  of  a  man 
who  has  decided  a  difficult  question. 

"  I  will  take  him  to  the  house,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  I  will  look  after  him  myself ;  and  by  means  of  kind- 
ness and  advice,  and  selecting  his  employment,  I  will 
teach  him  to  work,  and  reform  him." 


56  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XIII. 

"That's  the  way  I'll  do,"  said  Nckhliudof  to  him- 
self with  a  pleasant  self-consciousness;  and  then,  rec- 
ollecting that  he  had  still  to  go  to  the  rich  peasant 
Dutlof,  he  directed  his  steps  toward  a  lofty  and  ample 
establishment,  with  two  chimneys,  standing  in  the 
midst  of  the  village. 

As  he  passed  a  neighboring  hut  on  his  way  thither,  he 
stopped  to  speak  with  a  tall,  disorderly-looking  peasant- 
woman  of  forty  summers,  who  came  to  meet  him. 

"  A  pleasant  holiday,  father,"  '  she  said,  with  some 
show  of  assurance,  stopping  at  a  little  distance  from 
him  with  a  pleased  smile  and  a  low  obeisance. 

"Good-morning,  my  nurse.  How  are  you?  I  was 
just  going  to  see  3'our  neighbor." 

"Pretty  well,  your  excellency,  my  father.  It's  a 
good  idea.  But  won't  you  come  in?  I  beg  you  to. 
My  old  man  would  be  very  pleased." 

"  Well,  I'll  come ;  and  we'll  have  a  little  talk  with 
you,  nurse.     Is  this  your  house?" 

"It  is,  sir."1 

And  the  nurse  led  the  way  into  the  hut.  Nekhliudof 
followed  her  into  the  entry,  and  sat  down  on  a  tub, 
and  began  to  smoke  a  cigarette. 

"It's  hot  inside.  It's  better  to  sit  down  here,  and 
have  our  talk,"  he  said  in  reply  to  the  woman's  invi- 
tation to  go  into  the  hut. 

1  bdtiushka. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  57 

The  nurse  was  a  well-preserved  and  handsome 
woman.  In  the  features  of  her  countenance,  and 
especially  in  her  big  black  eyes,  there  was  a  strong 
resemblance  to  the  prince  himself.  She  folded  her 
hands  under  her  apron,  and  looking  fearlessly  at  him, 
and  incessantly  moving  her  head,  began  to  talk  with 
him. 

"  Why  is  it,  father?  why  do  you  wish  to  visit 
Dutlof?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  anxious  for  him  to  take  thirty  desiatins1 
of  land  of  me,  and  enlarge  his  domain  ;  and  moreover 
I  want  him  to  buy  some  wood  from  me  also.  You  see, 
he  has  money,  so  why  should  it  be  idle?  What  do 
you  think  about  it,  nurse?  " 

"Well,  what  can  I  say?  The  Dutlofs  are  strong 
people  :  he's  the  leading  peasant  in  the  whole  estate," 
replied  the  nurse,  shaking  her  head.  "  Last  summer 
he  built  another  building  out  of  his  own  lumber.  He 
did  not  call  upon  the  estate  at  all.  He  has  horses,  and 
yearling  colts  besides,  at  least  six  troikas,  and  cattle, 
cows,  and  sheep ;  so  that  it  is  a  sight  worth  seeing 
when  they  are  driven  along  the  street  from  pasture, 
and  the  women  of  the  house  come  out  to  get  them  into 
the  yard.  There  is  such  a  crush  of  animals  at  the 
gate  that  they  can  scarcely  get  through,  so  many  of 
them  there  are.  And  two  hundred  bee-hives  at  the 
very  least.  He  is  a  strong  peasant,  and  must  have 
money." 

"  But  what  do  you  think,  — has  he  much  money?  " 
asked  the  prince. 

"Men  say,  out  of  spite  of  course,  that  the  old 
man  has  no  little  money.  But  he  does  not  go  round 
talking  about  it,  and  he  does  not  tell  even  his  sons, 

1  eighty-one  acres. 


58  A  RUSSfAN  PROPRIETOR. 

but  he  must  have.  Why  shouldn't  he  take  hold  of  the 
woodland?  Perhaps  he  is  afraid  of  getting  the  repu- 
tation for  money.  Five  years  ago  he  went  into  a  small 
business  with  Shkalik  the  porter.  They  got  some 
meadow-land ;  and  this  Shkalik,  some  way  or  other, 
cheated  him,  so  that  the  old  man  was  three  hundred 
rubles  out  of  pocket.  And  from  that  time  he  has 
sworn  off.  How  can  he  help  being  forehanded,  your 
excellency,  father?  "  continued  the  nurse.  "  He  has 
three  farms,  a  big  family,  all  workers ;  and  besides, 
the  old  man  —  it  is  hard  to  say  it  —  is  a  capital  man- 
ager. He  is  lucky  in  every  thing  ;  it  is  surprising,  — 
in  his  grain  and  in  his  horses  and  in  his  cattle  and  in 
his  bees,  and  he's  lucky  in  his  children.  Now  he  has 
got  them  all  married  off.  He  has  found  husbands  for 
his  daughters  ;  and  he  has  just  married  Ilyushka,  and 
given  him  his  freedom.  He  himself  bought  the  letter 
of  enfranchisement.  And  so  a  fine  woman  has  come 
into  his  house." 

"Well,  do  they  live  harmoniously?"  asked  the 
prince. 

"  As  long  as  there's  the  right  sort  of  a  head  to  the 
house,  they  get  along.  Yet  even  the  Dutlofs  —  but  of 
course  that's  among  the  women.  The  daughters-in- 
law  bark  at  each  other  a  little  behind  the  oven,  but 
the  old  man  generally  holds  them  in  hand ;  and  the 
sons  live  harmoniously." 

The  nurse  was  silent  for  a  little. 

"Now,  the  old  man,  we  hear,  wants  to  leave  his 
eldest  son,  Karp,  as  master  of  the  house.  '  I  am  get- 
ting old,'  says  he.  '  It's  my  business  to  attend  to  the 
bees.'  Well,  Karp  is  a  good  peasant,  a  careful  peasant ; 
but  he  doesn't  manage  to  please  the  old  man  in  the 
least.     There's  no  sense  in  it." 


A   RUSS/AN  PROPRIETOR.  59 

"Well,  perhaps  Karp  wants  to  speculate  in  land 
and  wood.  What  do  you  think  about  it?"  pursued 
the  prince,  wishing  to  learn  from  the  woman  all  that 
she  knew  about  her  neighbors. 

"Scarcely,  sir,"1  continued  the  nurse.  "The  old 
man  hasn't  disclosed  his  money  to  his  son.  As  long 
as  he  lives,  of  course,  the  money  in  the  house  will  be 
under  the  old  man's  control ;  and  it  will  increase  all 
the  time  too." 

"  But  isn't  the  old  man  willing?  " 

"He  is  afraid." 

"  What  is  he  afraid  of  ?  " 

"  How  is  it  possible,  sir,  for  a  seignorial  peasant  to 
make  a  noise  about  his  money?  And  it's  a  hard  ques- 
tion to  decide  what  to  do  with  money  anyway.  Here 
he  went  into  business  with  the  porter,  and  was  cheated. 
Where  was  he  to  get  redress?  And  so  he  lost  his 
money.  But  with  the  proprietor  he  would  have  any 
loss  made  good  immediately,  of  course." 

"Yes,  hence,"  .  .  .  said  Nekhliudof,  reddening. 
"But  good-by,  nurse." 

"  Good-by,  sir,  }Tour  excellency.  Greatly  obliged 
to  you." 

1  bdtiushka. 


60  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XIV. 

"  Hadn't  I  better  go  home?"  mused  Nekhliudof, 
as  he  strode  along  toward  the  Dutlof  enclosure,  and 
felt  a  boundless  melancholy  and  moral  weariness. 

But  at  this  moment  the  new  deal  gates  were  thrown 
open  before  him  with  a  creaking  sound ;  and  a  hand- 
some, ruddy  fellow  of  eighteen  in  wagoner's  attire 
appeared,  leading  a  troika  of  powerful-limbed  and  still 
sweaty  horses.  He  hastily  brushed  back  his  blonde 
hair,  and  bowed  to  the  prince. 

"Well,  is  your  father  at  home,  Ilya?"  asked 
Nekhliudof. 

"  At  the  bee-house,  back  of  the  yard,"  replied  the 
youth,  driving  the  horses,  one  after  the  other,  through 
the  half-opened  gates. 

"I  will  not  give  it  up.  I  will  make  the  proposal. 
I  will  do  the  best  I  can,"  reflected  Nekhliudof;  and, 
after  waiting  till  the  horses  had  passed  out,  he  entered 
DutloFs  spacious  yard. 

It  was  plain  to  see  that  the  manure  had  only  recently 
been  carried  away.  The  ground  was  still  black  and 
damp ;  and  in  places,  particularly  in  the  hollows,  were 
left  red  fibrous  clots. 

In  the  yard  and  under  the  high  sheds,  many  carts 
stood  in  orderly  rows,  together  with  ploughs,  sledges, 
harrows,  barrels,  and  all  sorts  of  farming  implements. 
Doves  were  flitting  about,  cooing  in  the  shadows  under 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  61 

the  broad  solid  rafters.  There  was  an  odor  of  manure 
and  tar. 

In  one  corner  Karp  and  Ignat  were  fitting  a  new 
cross-bar  to  a  large  iron -mounted,  three-horse  cart. 

All  three  of  Dutlof's  sons  bore  a  strong  family 
resemblance.  The  youngest,  Ilya,  who  had  met  Nekh- 
liudof  at  the  gate,  was  beardless,  of  smaller  stature, 
ruddier  complexion,  and  more  neatly  dressed,  than  the 
others.  The  second,  Ignat,  was  rather  taller  and 
darker.  He  had  a  wedge-shaped  beard ;  and  though 
he  wore  boots,  a  driver's  shirt,  and  a  lamb's-skin  cap, 
he  had  not  such  a  festive,  holiday  appearance  as  his 
brother  had. 

The  eldest,  Karp,  was  still  taller.  He  wore  clogs, 
a  gray  kaftan,  and  a  shirt  without  gussets.  He  had  a 
reddish  beard,  trimmed ;  and  his  expression  was 
serious,  even  to  severity. 

"Do  you  wish  my  father  sent  for,  your  excellency?  " 
he  asked,  coming  to  meet  the  prince,  and  bowing 
slightly  and  awkwardly. 

"No,  I  will  go  to  him  at  the  hives :  I  wish  to  see 
what  he's  building  there.  But  I  should  like  a  talk  with 
you,"  said  Nekhliudof,  drawing  him  to  the  other  side 
of  the  yard,  so  that  Ignat  might  not  overhear  what  he 
was  about  to  talk  about  with  Karp. 

The  self-confidence  and  degree  of  pride  noticeable 
in  the  deportment  of  the  two  peasants,  and  what  the 
nurse  had  told  the  young  prince,  so  troubled  him,  that 
it  was  difficult  for  him  to  make  up  his  mind  to  speak 
with  them  about  the  matter  proposed. 

He  had  a  sort  of  guilty  feeling,  and  it  seemed  to 
him  easier  to  speak  with  one  brother  out  of  the  hearing 
of  the  other.  Karp  seemed  surprised  that  the  prince 
took  him  to  one  side,  but  he  followed  him. 


62  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

"Well,  now,"  began  Nckhliiulof  awkwardly,  —  "I 
wished  to  inquire  of  you  if  you  had  mauy  horses." 

44  We  have  about  five  troikas,  also  some  colts," 
replied  Karp  in  a  free-and-easy  manner,  scratching  his 
back. 

44  Well,  are  your  brothers  going  to  take  out  relays 
of  horses  for  the  post?  " 

44  We  shall  send  out  three  troikas  to  carry  the  mail. 
And  there's  Ilyushka,  he  has  been  off  with  his  team ; 
but  he's  just  come  back." 

44  Well,  is  that  profitable  for  3rou?  How  much  do 
you  earn  that  way?  " 

44  What  do  you  mean  by  profit,  your  excellenc}'? 
We  at  least  get  enough  to  live  on  and  bait  our  horses, 
thank  God  for  that!" 

44  Then,  why  don't  you  take  hold  of  something 
else?  You  see,  you  might  buy  wood,  or  take  more 
land." 

44  Of  course,  your  excellency:  we  might  rent  some 
land  if  there  were  any  convenient." 

44 1  wish  to  make  a  proposition  to  }'OU.  Since  you 
only  make  enough  out  of  your  teaming  to  live  on, 
you  had  better  take  thirty  desiatins  of  land  from  me. 
All  that  strip  behind  Sapof  I  will  let  you  have,  and 
you  can  carry  on  }our  farming  better." 

And  Nekhliudof,  carried  away  by  his  plan  for  a 
peasant  farm,  which  more  than  once  he  had  proposed 
to  himself,  and  deliberated  about,  began  fluently  to 
explain  to  the  peasant  his  proposition  about  it. 

Karp  listened  attentively  to  the  prince's  words. 

44  We  are  very  grateful  for  your  kindness,"  said  he, 
when  Nekhliudof  stopped,  and  looked  at  him  in  expec- 
tation of  his  answer.  440f  course  here  there's  noth- 
ing very  bad.      To   occupy  himself  with   farming   is 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  63 

better  for  a  peasant  than  to  go  off  as  a  whip.  He 
goes  among  strangers ;  he  sees  all  sorts  of  men ;  he 
gets  wild.  It's  the  very  best  thing  for  a  peasant,  to 
occupy  himself  with  land." 

"  You  think  so,  do  you  ?  " 

"As  long  as  my  father  is  alive,  how  can  I  think, 
your  excellency?     It's  as  he  wills." 

u  Take  me  to  the  beehives.     I  will  talk  with  him." 

"Come  with  me  this  way,"  said  Karp,  slowly 
directing  himself  to  the  barn  back  of  the  house.  He 
opened  a  low  gate  which  led  to  the  apiary,  and  after 
letting  the  prince  pass  through,  he  shut  it,  and  returned 
to  Ignat,  and  silently  took  up  his  interrupted  labors. 


64  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XV. 


Nekiiliudof,  stooping  low,  passed  through  the  low 
gate,  under  the  gloomy  shed,  to  the  apiary,  which  was 
situated  behind  the  yard. 

A  small  space,  surrounded  by  straw  and  a  wattled 
hedge,  through  the  chinks  of  which  the  light  streamed, 
was  filled  with  beehives  symmetrically  arranged,  and 
covered  with  shavings,  while  the  golden  bees  were 
humming  around  them.  Every  thing  was  bathed  in  the 
warm  and  brilliant  ra}*s  of  the  July  sun. 

From  the  gate  a  well-trodden  footway  led  through 
the  middle  to  a  wooden  side-building,  with  a  tin-foil 
image  on  it  gleaming  brightty  in  the  sun. 

A  few  orderly  young  lindens  lifting,  above  the 
thatched  roof  of  the  neighboring  court-yard,  their 
bushy  tops,  almost  audibly  rustled  their  dark-green, 
fresh  foliage,  in  unison  with  the  sound  of  the  buzzing 
bees.  All  the  shadows  from  the  covered  hedge,  from 
the  lindens,  and  from  the  hives,  fell  dark  and  short  on 
the  delicate  curling  grass  springing  up  between  the 
planks. 

The*  bent,  small  figure  of  the  old  man,  with  his  gray 
hair  and  bald  spot  shining  in  the  sun,  was  visible  near 
the  door  of  a  straw-thatched  structure  situated  among 
the  lindens.  "When  he  heard  the  creaking  of  the 
gate,  the  old  man  looked  up,  and  wiping  his  heated, 
sweaty  face  with  the  flap  of  his  shirt,  and  smiling  with 
pleasure,  came  to  meet  the  prince. 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  65 

In  the  apiar}7  it  was  so  comfortable,  so  pleasant,  so 
warm,  so  free  !  The  figure  of  the  gray-haired  old  man, 
with  thick  wrinkles  radiating  from  his  eyes,  and  wear- 
ing wide  shoes  on  his  bare  feet,  as  he  came  waddling 
along,  good-naturedly  and  contentedly  smiling,  to  wel- 
come the  prince  to  his  own  private  possessions,  was  so 
ingenuously  soothing  that  Nekhliudof  for  a  moment 
forgot  the  trying  impressions  of  the  morning,  and  his 
cherished  dream  came  vividly  up  before  him.  He 
already  saw  all  his  peasants  just  as  prosperous  and 
contented  as  the  old  man  Dutlof,  and  all  smiling 
soothingly  and  pleasantly  upon  him,  because  to  him 
alone  they  were  indebted  for  their  prosperity  and 
happiness. 

"  Would  you  like  a  net,  your  excellency?  The  bees 
are  angry  now,"  said  the  old  man,  taking  down  from 
the  fence  a  dirty  gingham  bag  fragrant  of  honey,  and 
handing  it  to  the  prince.  "The  bees  know  me,  and 
don't  sting,"  he  added,  with  the  pleasant  smile  that 
rarely  left  his  handsome  sunburned  face. 

"I  don't  need  it  either.  Well,  are  they  swarming 
yet  ?  ' '  asked  Nekhliudof,  also  smiling,  though  without 
knowing  why. 

"Yes,  they  are  swarming,  father,  Mitri  Mikolaye- 
vitch,"1  replied  the  old  man,  throwing  an  expression 
of  peculiar  endearment  into  this  form  of  addressing 
his  barin  by  his  name  and  patronymic.  "  They  have 
only  just  begun  to  swarm  ;  it  has  been  a  cold  spring, 
you  know." 

"  I  have  just  been  reading  in  a  book,"  began  Nekh- 
liudof, defending  himself  from  a  bee  which  had  got 
entangled  in  his  hair,  and  was  buzzing  under  his  ear, 
"  that  if  the  wax  stands  straight  on  the  bars,  then  the 

1  bdtiushka;  Mitri  Mikolayevitch,  rustic  for  Dmitri  Nikolayevitch. 


66  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

bees  swarm  earlier.  Therefore  such  hives  as  are  made 
of  boards  .  .  .  with  cross-b — " 

u  You  don't  want  to  gesticulate;  that  makes  it 
worse,"  said  the  little  old  man.  "  Now  don't  you 
think  you  had  better  put  on  the  net?  " 

Nekhliudof  felt  a  sharp  pain,  but  by  some  sort  of 
childish  egotism  he  did  not  wish  to  give  in  to  it ;  and 
so,  once  more  refusing  the  bag,  continued  to  talk  with 
the  old  man  about  the  construction  of  hives,  about 
which  he  had  read  in  M  Maison  Rustique,"  and  which, 
according  to  his  idea,  ought  to  be  made  twice  as  large. 
But  another  bee  stung  him  in  the  neck,  and  he  lost  the 
thread  of  his  discourse  and  stopped  short  in  the  midst 
of  it. 

"That's  well  enough,  father,  Mitri  Mikolayevitch," 
said  the  old  man,  looking  at  the  prince  with  paternal 
protection  ;  "  that's  well  enough  in  books,  as  you  say. 
Yes  ;  maybe  the  advice  is  given  with  some  deceit,  with 
some  hidden  meaning ;  but  only  just  let  him  do  as  he 
advises,  and  we  shall  be  the  first  to  have  a  good  laugh 
at  his  expense.  And  this  happens !  How  are  you 
going  to  teach  the  bees  where  to  deposit  their  wax? 
They  themselves  put  it  on  the  cross-bar,  sometimes 
straight  and  sometimes  aslant.  Just  look  here!  "  he 
continued,  opening  one  of  the  nearest  hives,  and  gaz- 
ing at  the  entrance-hole  blocked  by  a  bee  buzzing  and 
crawling  on  the  crooked  comb.  "  Here's  a  young  one. 
It  sees ;  at  its  head  sits  the  queen,  but  it  lays  the  wax 
straight  and  sideways,  both  according  to  the  position 
of  the  block,"  said  the  old  man,  evidently  carried  away 
by  his  interest  in  his  occupation,  and  not  heeding  the 
prince's  situation.  u  Now,  to-day,  it  will  fly  with  the 
pollen.  To-day  is  warm  ;  it's  on  the  watch,"  he  con- 
tinued, again  covering  up  the  hive  and  pinning  down 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  67 

with  a  cloth  the  crawling  bee ;  and  then  brushing  off 
into  his  rough  palm  a  few  of  the  insects  from  his 
wrinkled  neck. 

The  bees  did  not  sting  him  ;  but  as  for  Nekhliudof, 
he  could  scarcely  refrain  from  the  desire  to  beat  a 
retreat  from  the  apiary.  The  bees  had  already  stung 
him  in  three  places,  and  were  buzzing  angrily  on  all 
sides  around  his  head  and  neck. 

"  You  have  many  hives?"  he  asked  as  he  retreated 
toward  the  gate. 

"  What  God  has  given,"  replied  Dutlof  sarcastically. 
"It  is  not  necessary  to  count  them,  father;  the  bees 
don't  like  it.  Now,  your  excellency,  I  wanted  to  ask 
a  favor  of  you,"  he  went  on  to  say,  pointing  to  the 
small  posts  standing  by  the  fence.  "It  was  about 
Osip,  the  nurse's  husband.  If  you  would  only  speak 
to  him.  In  our  village  it's  so  hard  to  act  in  a  neigh- 
borly way  ;  it's  not  good." 

"How  so?  .  .  .  Ah,  how  they  sting!"  exclaimed 
the  prince,  already  seizing  the  latch  of  the  gate. 

"  Every  year  now,  he  lets  his  bees  out  among  my 
young  ones.  We  could  stand  it,  but  strange  bees  get 
away  their  comb  and  kill  them,"  said  the  old  man, 
not  heeding  the  prince's  grimaces. 

"Very  well,  b}r  and  by;  right  away,"  said  Nekh- 
liudof. And  having  no  longer  strength  of  will  to 
endure,  he  hastily  beat  a  retreat  through  the  gate, 
fighting  his  tormentors  with  both  hands. 

"  Rub  it  with  dirt.  It's  nothing,"  said  the  old  man, 
coming  to  the  door  after  the  prince.  The  prince  took 
some  earth,  and  rubbed  the  spot  where  he  had  been 
stung,  and  reddened  as  he  cast  a  quick  glance  at  Karp 
and  Ignat,  who  did  not  deign  to  look  at  him.  Then  he 
frowned  angrily. 


68  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XVI. 

u  I  wanted  to  ask  you  something  about  my  sons, 
your  excellency,"  said  the  old  man,  either  pretending 
not  to  notice,  or  really  not  noticing,  the  prince's  angry 
face. 

44  What?" 

44  Well,  we  are  well  provided  with  horses,  praise  the 
Lord!  and  that's  our  trade,  and  so  we  don't  have  to 
work  on  your  land." 

44  What  do  you  mean?  " 

44  If  you  would  only  be  kind  enough  to  let  my  sons 
have  leave  of  absence,  then  Ilyushka  and  Iguat  would 
take  three  troikas,  and  go  out  teaming  for  all  summer. 
Maybe  they'd  earn  something." 

44  Where  would  they  go?  " 

44  Just  as  it  happened,"  replied  Ilyushka,  who  at 
this  moment,  having  put  the  horses  under  the  shed, 
joined  his  father.  "The  Kadminski  boys  went  with 
eight  horses  to  Romen.  Not  only  earned  their  own 
living,  they  say,  but  brought  back  a  gain  of  more  than 
three  hundred  per  cent.  Fodder,  they  say,  is  cheap  at 
Odest." 

44  Well,  that's  the  very  thing  I  wanted  to  talk 
with  you  about,"  said  the  prince,  addressing  the 
old  man,  and  anxious  to  draw  him  shrewdly  into  a 
talk  about  the  farm.  44Tell  me,  please,  if  it  would 
be  more  profitable  to  go  to  teaming  than  farming  at 
home?" 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  69 

M  Why  not  more  profitable,  your  excellency?  "  said 
Ilyushka,  again  putting  in  his  word,  and  at  the  same 
time  quickly  shaking  back  his  hair.  "  There's  no  way 
of  keeping  horses  at  home." 

14  Well,  how  much  do  you  earn  in  the  summer?  " 

"Since  spring,  as  feed  was  high,  we  went  to  Kief 
with  merchandise,  and  to  Kursk,  and  back  again  to 
Moscow  with  grits ;  and  in  that  way  we  earned  our 
living.  And  our  horses  had  enough,  and  we  brought 
back  fifteen  rubles  in  money." 

44  There's  no  harm  in  taking  up  with  an  honorable 
profession,  whatever  it  is,"  said  the  prince,  again 
addressing  the  old  man.  "But  it  seems  to  me  that 
you  might  find  another  form  of  activity.  And  besides, 
this  work  is  such  that  a  young  man  goes  everywhere. 
He  sees  all  sorts  of  people,  —  may  get  wild,"  he 
added,  quoting  Karp's  words. 

44  What  can  we  peasants  take  up  with,  if  not  team- 
ing?" objected  the  old  man  with  his  sweet  smile. 
"If  you  are  a  good  driver,  you  get  enough  to  eat, 
and  so  do  your  horses ;  but,  as  regards  mischief,  they 
are  just  the  same  as  at  home,  thank  the  Lord !  It 
isn't  the  first  time  that  they  have  been.  I  have  been 
myself,  and  never  saw  any  harm  in  it,  nothing  but 
good." 

"How  many  other  things  you  might  find  to  do  at 
home  !  with  fields  and  meadows  "  — 

"How  is  it  possible?"  interrupted  Ilyushka  with 
animation.  "  We  were  born  for  this.  All  the  regu- 
lations are  at  our  fingers'  ends.  We  like  the  work. 
It's  the  most  enjoyable  we  have,  your  excellency.  How 
we  like  to  go  teaming  !  " 

"Your  excellency,  will  you  not  do  us  the  honor  of 
coming  into  the  house?     You  have  not  yet  seen  our 


70  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

new  domicile,"   said  the  old  man,  bowing  low,   and 
winking  to  his  son. 

Ilyushka  hastened  into  the  house,  and  Nekhliudof 
and  the  old  man  followed  after  him. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  71 


XVII. 

As  soon  as  he  got  into  the  house,  the  old  man  bowed 
once  more ;  then  using  his  coat-tail  to  dust  the  bench 
in  the  front  of  the  room,  he  smiled,  and  said,  — 

"  What  do  you  want  of  us,  your  excellency?  " 

The  hut  was  bright  and  roomy,  with  a  chimney ; 
and  it  had  a  loft  and  berths.  The  fresh  aspen- wood 
beams,  between  which  could  be  seen  the  moss,  scarcely 
faded,  were  as  yet  not  turned  dark.  The  new  benches 
and  the  loft  were  not  polished  smooth,  and  the  floor 
was  not  worn.  One  young  peasant  woman,  rather 
lean,  with  a  serious  oval  face,  was  sitting  on  a  berth, 
and  using  her  foot  to  rock  a  hanging  cradle  that  was 
suspended  from  the  ceiling  by  a  long  hook.  This 
was  Ilya's  wife. 

In  the  cradle  lay  at  full  length  a  suckling  child, 
scarcely  breathing,  and  with  closed  eyes. 

Another  young  woman,  robust  and  rosy-cheeked, 
with  her  sleeves  rolled  up  above  her  elbows,  show- 
ing strong  arms  and  hands  red  even  higher  than  her 
wrists,  was  standing  in  front  of  the  oven,  and  mincing 
onions  in  a  wooden  dish.     This  was  Karp's  wife. 

A  pock-marked  woman,  showing  signs  of  pregnancy, 
which  she  tried  to  conceal,  was  standing  near  the  oven. 
The  room  was  hot,  not  only  from  the  summer  sun,  but 
from  the  heat  of  the  oven ;  and  there  was  a  strong 
smell  of  baking  bread. 

Two  flaxen-headed  little  bo3Ts  and  a  girl  gazed  down 


72  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

from  the  loft  upon  the  prince,  with  faces  full  of  curi- 
osity. They  had  come  in,  expecting  something  to 
eat. 

Nekhliudof  was  delighted  to  see  this  happy  house- 
hold ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  felt  a  sense  of  con- 
straint in  presence  of  these  peasants,  men  and  women, 
all  looking  at  him.  He  flushed  a  little  as  he  sat  down 
on  the  bench. 

"  Give  me  a  crust  of  hot  bread  :  I  am  fond  of  it," 
said  he,  and  the  flush  deepened. 

Karp's  wife  cut  off  a  huge  slice  of  bread,  and 
handed  it  on  a  plate  to  the  prince.  Nekhliudof  said 
nothing,  not  knowing  what  to  say.  The  women  also 
were  silent,  the  old  man  smiled  benevolently. 

"Well,  now  why  am  I  so  awkward?  as  though  I 
were  to  blame  for  something,"  thought  Nekhliudof. 
"  Why  shouldn't  I  make  my  proposition  about  the 
farm?    What  stupidity  !  "     Still  he  remained  silent. 

"  Well,  father  Mitri  Mikolayevitch,  what  are  you 
going  to  say  about  my  boys'  proposal?"  asked  the 
old  man. 

"I  should  advise  you  absolutely  not  to  send  them 
away,  but  to  have  them  stay  at  home,  and  work," 
said  Nekhliudof,  suddenly  collecting  his  wits.  "  You 
know  what  I  have  proposed  to  you.  Go  in  with  me, 
and  buy  some  of  the  crown  woods  and  some  more 
land"  — 

"  But  how  are  we  going  to  get  money  to  buy  it,  your 
excellency?  "  he  asked,  interrupting  the  prince. 

"  Why,  it  isn't  very  much  wood,  only  two  hundred 
rubles'  worth,"  replied  Nekhliudof. 

The  old  man  gave  an  indignant  laugh. 

"Very  good,  if  that's  all.  Why  not  buy  it?" 
said  he. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR  73 

"Haven't  you  money  enough?  "  asked  the  prince 
reproachfully. 

"  Okh  I  Sir,  your  excellency!"  replied  the  old 
man,  with  grief  expressed  in  his  tone,  looking  appre- 
hensively toward  the  door.  "Only  enough  to  feed 
my  family,  not  enough  to  buy  woodland." 

"  But  you  know  you  have  money,  —  what  do  you  do 
with  it?  "  insisted  Nekhliudof. 

The  old  man  suddenly  fell  into  a  terrible  state  of 
excitement:  his  eyes  flashed,  his  shoulders  began  to 
twitch. 

"Wicked  men  may  say  all  sorts  of  things  about 
me,"  he  muttered  in  a  trembling  voice.  "But,  so 
may  God  be  my  witness  !  "  he  said,  growing  more  and 
more  animated,  and  turning  his  eyes  toward  the  ikon, 
"  may  my  eyes  crack,  may  I  perish  with  all  my  family, 
if  I  have  any  thing  more  than  the  fifteen  silver  rubles 
which  Ilyushka  brought  home  ;  and  we  have  to  pay  the 
poll-tax,  you  yourself  know  that.  And  we  built  the 
hut"  — 

"Well,  well,  all  right,"  said  the  prince,  rising  from 
the  bench.     "  Good- by,  friends."1 

1  Proshchaite,  khozy&eva. 


74  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XVIII. 

"My  God!  my  God!"  was  Nekhliudofs  mental 
exclamation,  as  with  long  strides  he  hastened  home 
through  the  shady  alleys  of  his  weed-grown  garden, 
and,  absent-mindedly,  snapped  off  the  leaves  and 
branches  which  fell  in  his  way. 

44  Is  it  possible  that  my  dreams  about  the  ends  and 
duties  of  my  life  are  all  idle  nonsense?  Why  is  it 
hard  for  me,  and  mournful,  as  though  I  were  dissatis- 
fied with  myself  because  I  imagined  that  having  once 
begun  this  course  I  should  constantly  experience  the 
fulness  of  the  morally  pleasant  feeling  which  I  had 
when,  for  the  first  time,  these  thoughts  came  to  me?  " 

And  with  extraordinary  vividness  and  distinctness 
he  saw  in  his  imagination  that  happy  moment  which 
he  had  experienced  a  year  before. 

He  had  arisen  very  early,  before  every  one  else  in 
the  house,  and  feeling  painfully  those  secret,  indescrib- 
able impulses  of  3011th,  he  had  gone  aimlessly  out  into 
the  garden,  and  from  there  into  the  woods ;  and, 
amid  the  energetic  but  tranquil  nature  pulsing  with  the 
new  life  of  Maytime,  he  had  wandered  long  alone, 
without  thought,  and  suffering  from  the  exuberance  of 
some  feeling,  and  not  finding  any  expression  for  it. 

Then,  with  all  the  allurement  of  what  is  unknown, 
his  youthful  imagination  brought  up  before  him  the 
voluptuous  form  of  a  woman ;  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  was  the  object  of  his  indescribable  longing.     But 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  75 

another,  deeper  sentiment  said,  Not  that,  and  impelled 
him  to  search  and  be  disturbed  in  mind. 

Without  thought  or  desire,  as  always  happens  after 
extra  activity,  he  lay  on  his  back  under  a  tree,  and 
looked  at  the  diaphanous  morning-clouds  drifting  over 
him  across  the  deep,  endless  sky. 

Suddenly,  without  any  reason,  the  tears  sprang  to 
his  eyes,  and  God  knows  in  what  way  the  thought  came 
to  him  with  perfect  clearness,  filling  all  his  soul  and 
giving  him  intense  delight,  —  the  thought  that  love  and 
righteousness  are  the  same  as  truth  and  enjoyment, 
and  that  there  is  only  one  truth,  and  only  one  possible 
happiness,  in  the  world. 

The  deeper  feeling  this  time  did  not  say,  Not  that. 
He  sat  up,  and  began  to  verify  this  thought. 

"  That  is  it,  that  is  it,"  said  he  to  himself,  in  a  sort 
of  ecstasy,  measuring  all  his  former  convictions,  all  the 
phenomena  of  his  life,  by  the  truth  just  discovered  to 
him,  and  as  it  seemed  to  him  absolutely  new. 

"  What  stupidity!  All  that  I  knew,  all  that  I  be- 
lieved in,  all  that  I  loved,"  he  had  said  to  himself. 
M  Love  is  self-deling  ;  this  is  the  only  true  happiness 
independent  of  chance,"  he  had  said  over  and  over 
again,  smiling  and  waving  his  hands. 

Applying  this  thought  on  every  side  to  life,  and 
finding  in  it  confirmation  both  of  life  and  that  inner 
voice  which  told  him  that  this  was  it,  he  had  ex- 
perienced a  new  feeling  of  pleasant  agitation  and 
enthusiasm. 

"  And  so  I  ought  to  do  good  if  I  would  be  happy," 
he  thought ;  and  all  his  future  vividly  came  up  before 
him,  not  as  an  abstraction,  but  in  images  in  the  form 
of  the  life  of  a  proprietor. 

He  saw  before  him  a  huge  field,  conterminous  with 


76  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

his  whole  life,  which  he  was  to  consecrate  to  the  good, 
and  in  which  really  he  should  find  happiness.  There 
was  no  need  for  him  to  search  for  a  sphere  of  activity ; 
it  was  all  ready.  He  had  one  out-and-out  obligation  : 
he  had  his  serfs.  .  .  . 

And  what  comfortable  and  beneficent  labor  lay 
before  him!  "  To  work  for  this  simple,  impression- 
able, incorruptible  class  of  people ;  to  lift  them  from 
poverty  ;  to  give  them  pleasure  ;  to  give  them  education 
which,  fortunately,  I  will  turn  to  use  in  correcting  their 
faults,  which  arise  from  ignorance  and  superstition ; 
to  develop  their  morals ;  to  induce  them  to  love  the 
right.  .  .  .  What  a  brilliant,  happy  future !  And 
besides  all  this,  I,  who  am  going  to  do  this  for  my  own 
happiness,  shall  take  delight  in  their  appreciation, 
shall  see  how  every  day  I  shall  go  farther  and  far- 
ther toward  my  predestined  end.  A  wonderful  future ! 
Why  could  I  not  have  seen  this  before? 

11  And  besides,"  so  he  had  thought  at  the  same  time, 
"  who  will  hinder  me  from  being  happy  in  love  for  a 
woman,  in  enjoyment  of  family?  M 

And  his  youthful  imagination  portrayed  before  him 
a  still  more  bewitching  future. 

"I  and  my  wife,  whom  I  shall  love  as  no  one  ever 
loved  a  wife  before  in  the  world,  we  shall  always  live 
amid  this  restful,  poetical,  rural  nature,  with  our  chil- 
dren, maybe,  and  with  my  old  aunt.  We  have  our 
love  for  each  other,  our  love  for  our  children  ;  and  we 
shall  both  know  that  our  aim  is  the  right.  We  shall 
help  each  other  in  pressing  on  to  this  goal.  I  shall 
make  general  arrangements ;  I  shall  give  general  aid 
when  it  is  right ;  I  shall  carry  on  the  farm,  the  savings 
bank,  the  workshop.  And  she,  with  her  dear  little 
head,  and  dressed  in  a  simple  white  dress,  which  she 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  11 

lifts  above  her  dainty  ankle  as  she  steps  through  the 
mud,  will  go  to  the  peasants'  school,  to  the  hospital,  to 
some  unfortunate  peasant  who  in  truth  does  not  de- 
serve help,  and  everywhere  carry  comfort  and  aid.  .  .  . 
Children,  old  men,  women,  will  wait  for  her,  and  look 
on  her  as  on  some  angel,  as  on  Providence.  Then  she 
will  return,  and  hide  from  me  the  fact  that  she  has 
been  to  see  the  unfortunate  peasant,  and  given  him 
money ;  but  I  shall  know  all,  and  give  her  a  hearty 
hug,  and  rain  kisses  thick  and  fast  on  her  lovely  eyes, 
her  modestly-blushing  cheeks,  and  her  smiling,  rosy 
lips."    . 


78  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 


XIX. 

"Wiiere  are  those  dreams?"  the  young  man  now 
asked  himself  as  he  walked  home  after  his  round  of 
visits.  uHSre  more  than  a  year  has  passed  since  I 
have  been  seeking  for  happiness  in  this  course,  and 
what  have  I  found?  It  is  true,  I  sometimes  feel  that 
I  can  be  contented  with  myself;  but  this  is  a  dry, 
doubtful  kind  of  content.  Yet,  no  ;  I  am  simply  dis- 
satisfied !  I  am  dissatisfied  because  I  find  no  happiness 
here ;  and  I  desire,  I  passionately  long  for,  happiness. 
I  have  not  experienced  delight,  I  have  cut  myself  off 
from  all  that  gives  it.  Wherefore?  for  what  end? 
Does  that  make  it  easier  for  any  one  ? 

"  My  aunt  was  right  when  she  wrote  that  it  is  easier 
to  find  happiness  than  to  give  it  to  others.  Have  my 
peasants  become  any  richer?  Have  they  learned  any 
thing?  or  have  they  shown  any  moral  improvement? 
Not  the  least.  They  are  no  better  off,  but  it  grows 
harder  and  harder  every  day  for  me.  If  I  saw  any 
success  in  my  undertakings,  if  I  saw  any  signs  of 
gratitude,  .  .  .  but,  no !  I  see  falsely  directed  rou- 
tine, vice,  untruthfulness,  helplessness.  I  am  wasting 
the  best  years  of  my  life." 

Thus  he  said  to  himself,  and  he  recollected  that  his 
neighbors,  as  he  heard  from  his  nurse,  called  him  "  a 
mere  boy ;  "  that  he  had  no  money  left  in  the  count- 
ing-room ;  that  his  new  threshing-machine,  which  he 
had  invented,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  peasants, 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  79 

only  made  a  noise,  and  did  not  thresh  any  thing  when 
it  had  been  set  ill  motion  for  the  first  time  in  pres- 
ence of  numerous  spectators,  who  had  gathered  at  the 
threshing-floor  ;  that  from  day  to  day  he  had  to  expect 
the  coming  of  the  district  judge  for  the  list  of  goods 
and  chattels,  which  he  had  neglected  to  make  outr- 
having  been  engrossed  in  various  new  enterprises  on 
his  estate. 

And  suddenly  there  arose  before  him,  just  as  vividly 
as,  before,  that  walk  through  the  forest  and  his  ideal 
of  rural  life  had  arisen,  — just  as  vividly  there  appeared 
his  little  university  room  at  Moscow,  where  he  used  to 
sit  half  the  night  before  a  solitary  candle,  with  his  chum 
and  his  favorite  boy  friend. 

They  used  to  read  for  five  hours  on  a  stretch,  and 
study  such  stupid  lessons  in  civil  law  ;  and  when  they 
were  done  with  them,  they  would  send  for  supper, 
open  a  bottle  of  champagne,  and  talk  about  the  future 
which  awaited  them. 

How  entirely  different  the  young  student  had  thought 
the  future  would  be !  Then  the  future  was  full  of 
enjoyment,  of  varied  occupation,  brilliant  with  suc- 
cess, and  beyond  a  peradventure  sure  to  bring  them 
both  to  what  seemed  to  them  the  greatest  blessing  in 
the  world,  —  to  fame. 

14  He  will  go  on,  and  go  on  rapidly,  in  that  path," 
thought  Nekhliudof  of  his  friend;  "but  I  "  .   .  . 

But  by  this  time  he  was  already  mounting  the  steps 
to  his  house ;  and  near  it  were  standing  a  score  of 
peasants  and  house-servants,  waiting  with  various 
requests  to  the  prince.  And  this  brought  him  back 
from  dreams  to  the  reality. 

Among  the  crowd  was  a  ragged  and  blood-stained 
peasant-woman,  who  was  lamenting  and  complaining 


80  A  RUSSfAX  PROPRIETOR. 

of  her  father-in-law,  who  had  been  beating  her.  There 
were  two  brothers,  who  for  two  years  past  had  been 
going  on  shares  in  their  domestic  arrangements,  and 
now  looked  at  each  other  with  hatred  and  despair. 
There  was  also  an  unshaven,  gray-haired  domestic  serf, 
with  hands  trembling  from  the  effects  of  intoxication  ; 
and  this  man  was  brought  to  the  prince  by  his  son,  a 
gardener,  who  complained  of  his  disorderly  conduct. 
There  was  a  peasant,  who  had  driven  his  wife  out  of 
the  house  because  she  had  not  worked  any  all  the 
spring.  There  was  also  the  wife,  a  sick  woman,  who 
sobbed,  but  said  nothing,  as  she  sat  on  the  grass  by 
the  steps,  —  only  showed  her  inflamed  and  swollen  leg, 
carelessly  wrapped  up  in  a  filthy  rag. 

Nekhliudof  listened  to  all  the  petitions  and  com- 
plaints ;  and  after  he  had  given  advice  to  one,  blamed 
others,  and  replied  to  still  others,  he  began  to  feel  a 
sort  of  whimsical  sensation  of  weariness,  shame,  weak- 
ness, and  regret.     And  he  went  to  his  room. 


A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  81 


XX. 


In  the  small  room  occupied  by  Nekhliudof  stood 
an  old  leather  sofa  decorated  with  copper  nails,  a 
few  chairs  of  the  same  description,  an  old-fashioned 
inlaid  extension-table  with  scallops  and  brass  mount- 
ings, and  strewn  with  papers,  and  an  old-fashioned 
English  grand  with  narrow  keys,  broken  and  twisted. 

Between  the  windows  hung  a  large  mirror  with  an 
old  carved  frame  gilded.  On  the  floor,  near  the  table, 
lay  packages  of  papers,  books,  and  accounts. 

This  room,  on  the  whole,  had  a  characterless  and 
disorderly  appearance ;  and  this  lively  disorder  pre- 
sented a  sharp  contrast  with  the  affectedly  aristocratic 
arrangement  of  the  other  rooms  of  the  great  mansion. 

When  Nekhliudof  reached  his  room,  he  flung  his 
hat  angrily  on  the  table,  and  sat  down  in  a  chair 
which  stood  near  the  piano,  crossed  his  legs,  and 
shook  his  head. 

"Will  you  have  lunch,  your  excellency?  "  asked  a 
tall,  thin,  wrinkled  old  woman,  who  entered  just  at 
this  instant,  dressed  in  a  cap,  a  great  kerchief,  and 
a  print  dress. 

Nekhliudof  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  or  two  in 
silence,  as  though  collecting  his  thoughts. 

"  No:  I  don't  wish  any  thing,  nurse,"  said  he,  and 
again  fell  into  thought. 

The  nurse  shook  her  head  at  him  in  some  vexation, 
and  sighed. 


82  A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

"  Eh  !  Father,  Dmitri  Nikolaye>itch,  are  you  mel- 
ancholy? Such  tribulation  comes,  but  it  will  pass 
away.     God  knows  "... 

41 1  am  not  melancholy.  What  have  you  brought, 
Malanya  Finogeuovna?"  replied  Nekhliudof,  endeav- 
oring to  smile. 

" Ain't  melancholy!  can't  I  see?"  the  old  woman 
began  to  say  with  warmth.  u  The  whole  livelong 
day  to  be  all  sole  alone !  And  you  take  every  thing 
to  heart  so,  and  look  out  for  every  thing ;  and  besides, 
you  scarcety  eat  any  thing.  What's  the  reason  of  it? 
If  you'd  only  go  to  the  city,  or  visit  your  neighbors, 
as  others  do  !  You  are  young,  and  the  idea  of  bother- 
ing over  things  so !  Pardon  me,  little  father,  I  will 
sit  down,"  pursued  the  old  nurse,  taking  a  seat  near 
the  door.  "  You  see,  we  have  got  into  such  a  habit 
that  we  lose  fear.  Is  that  the  way  gentlemen  do? 
There's  no  good  in  it.  You  are  only  ruining  yourself, 
and  the  people  are  spoiled.  That's  just  like  our 
people :  they  don't  understand  it,  that's  a  fact.  You 
had  better  go  to  your  auntie.  What  she  wrote  was 
good  sense,"  said  the  old  nurse,  admonishing  him. 

Nekhliudof  kept  growing  more  and  more  dejected. 
His  right  hand,  resting  on  his  knee,  lazily  struck  the 
piano,  making  a  chord,  a  second,  a  third. 

Nekhliudof  moved  nearer,  drew  his  other  hand  from 
his  pocket,  and  began  to  play.  The  chords  which  he 
made  were  sometimes  not  premeditated,  were  occasion- 
ally not  even  according  to  rule,  often  remarkable  for 
absurdity,  and  showed  that  he  was  lacking  in  musical 
talent ;  but  the  exercise  gave  him  a  certain  indefinable 
melancholy  enjoyment. 

At  every  modification  in  the  harmony,  he  waited 
with  muffled  heart-beat  for  what  would  come  out  of  it ; 


A   RUSSfAN  PROPRIETOR.  83 

and  when  any  thing  came,  he,  in  a  dark  sort  of  way, 
completed  with  his  imagination  what  was  missing. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  heard  a  hundred  melodies, 
and  a  chorus,  and  an  orchestra  simultaneously  joining 
in  with  his  harmony.  But  his  chief  pleasure  was  in 
the  powerful  activity  of  his  imagination  ;  confused  and 
broken,  but  bringing  up  with  striking  clearness  be- 
fore him  the  most  varied,  mixed,  and  absurd  images 
and  pictures  from  the  past  and  the  future. 

Now  it  presents  the  puffy  figure  of  Davidka  Byelui, 
timidly  blinking  his  white  eyelashes  at  the  sight  of 
his  mother's  black  fist  with  its  network  of  veins ;  his 
bent  back,  and  huge  hands  covered  with  white  hairs, 
exhibiting  a  uniform  patience  and  submission  to  fate, 
sufficient  to  overcome  torture  and  deprivation. 

Then  he  saw  the  brisk,  presuming  nurse,  and,  some- 
how, seemed  to  picture  her  going  through  the  villages, 
and  announcing  to  the  peasants  that  they  ought  to  hide 
their  money  from  the  proprietors  ;  and  he  unconscious- 
ly said  to  himself,  "  Yes,  it  is  necessary  to  hide  money 
from  the  proprietors." 

Then  suddenly  there  came  up  before  him  the  fair 
head  of  his  future  wife,  for  some  reason  weeping  and 
leaning  on  his  shoulder  in  deep  grief. 

Then  he  seemed  to  see  Churis's  kindly  blue  eyes 
looking  affectionately  at  his  pot-bellied  little  son. 
Yes,  he  saw  in  him  a  helper  and  savior,  apart  from 
his  son.     "That  is  love,"  he  whispered. 

Then  he  remembered  Yukhvanka's  mother,  remem- 
bered the  expression  of  patience  and  conciliation 
which,  notwithstanding  her  prominent  teeth  and  her 
irregular  features,  he  recognized  on  her  aged  face. 

"It  must  be  that  I  have  been  the  first  during  her 
seventy  years  of  life,  to  recognize  her  good  qualities," 


84  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

he  said  to  himself,  and  whispered  "  Strange  ;  "  but  he 
continued  still  to  drum  on  the  piano,  and  to  listen  to 
the  sounds. 

Then  he  vividly  recalled  his  retreat  from  the  bees, 
and  the  expressions  on  the  faces  of  Karp  and  Ignat, 
who  evidently  wanted  to  laugh  though  they  made 
believe  not  look  at  him.  He  reddened,  and  involun- 
tarily glanced  at  the  old  nurse,  who  still  remained 
sitting  by  the  door,  looking  at  him  with  silent  atten- 
tion, occasionally  shaking  her  gray  head. 

Here,  suddenly,  he  seemed  to  see  a  troika  of  sleek 
horses,  and  Ilyushka's  handsome,  robust  form,  with 
bright  curls,  gayly  shining,  narrow  blue  eyes,  fresh 
complexion,  and  delicate  down  just  beginning  to 
appear  on  lip  and  chin. 

He  remembered  how  Ilyushka  was  afraid  that  he 
would  not  be  permitted  to  go  teaming,  and  how  eagerly 
he  argued  in  favor  of  the  work  that  he  liked  so  well. 
And  he  saw  the  gray  early  morning,  that  began  with 
mist,  and  the  smooth  paved  road,  and  the  long  lines 
of  three-horse  wagons,  heavily  laden  and  protected  by 
mats,  and  marked  with  big  black  letters.  The  stout, 
contented,  well-fed  horses,  thundering  along  with  their 
bells,  arching  their  backs,  and  tugging  on  the  traces, 
pulled  in  unison  up  the  hill,  forcefully  straining  on 
their  long-nailed  shoes  over  the  smooth  road. 

As  the  train  of  wagons  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
the  postman  had  quickly  clashed  by  with  jingling  bells, 
which  were  echoed  far  and  wide  by  the  great  forest 
extending  along  on  both  sides  of  the  road. 

t4^l-a-ai7"  in  a  loud,  boyish  voice,  shouts  the  head 
driver,  who  has  a  badge  on  his  lambskin  cap,  and 
swings  his  whip  around  his  head. 

Beside  the  front  wheel  of  the  front  team,  the  red- 


A   RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR.  85 

headed,  cross-looking  Karp  is  walking  heavilv  in  huge 
boots.  In  the  second  team  Ilyushka  shows  his  hand- 
some head,  as  he  sits  on  the  driver's  seat  playing 
the  bugle.  Three  troi'ka-wagons  loaded  with  boxes, 
with  creaking  wheels,  with  the  sound  of  bells  and 
shouts,  file  by.  Ilyushka  once  more  hides  his  hand- 
some face  under  the  matting,  and  falls  off  to  sleep. 

Now  it  is  a  fresh,  clear  evening.  The  deal  gates 
open  for  the  weary  horses  as  they  halt  in  front  of  the 
tavern  yard ;  and  one  after  the  other,  the  high  mat- 
covered  teams  roll  in  across  the  planks  that  lie  at  the 
gates,  and  come  to  rest  under  the  wide  sheds. 

Ilyushka  gayly  exchanges  greetings  with  the  light- 
complexioned,  wide -bosomed  landlady,  who  asks, 
"  Have  you  come  far?  and  will  there  be  many  of  you 
to  supper?"  and  at  the  same  time  looks  with  pleasure 
on  the  handsome  lad,  with  her  bright,  kindly  eyes. 

And  now,  having  unharnessed  the  horses,  he  goes 
into  the  warm  house1  crowded  with  people,  crosses 
himself,  sits  down  at  the  generous  wooden  bowl,  and 
enters  into  lively  conversation  with  the  landlady  and 
his  companions. 

And  then  he  goes  to  bed  in  the  open  air,  under  the 
stars  which  gleam  down  into  the  shed.  His  bed  is 
fragrant  hay,  and  he  is  near  the  horses,  which,  stamp- 
ing and  snorting,  eat  their  fodder  in  the  wooden  cribs. 
He  goes  to  the  shed,  turns  toward  the  east,  and  after 
crossing  himself  thirty  times  in  succession  on  his 
broad  brawny  chest,  and  throwing  back  his  bright 
curls,  he  repeats  "Our  Father"  and  "Lord  have 
mercy"  a  score  of  times,  and  wrapping  himself,  head 
and  all,  in  his  cloak,  sleeps  the  healthy,  dreamless  sleep 
of  strong,  fresh  manhood. 

1  izba. 


86  A  RUSSIAN  PROPRIETOR. 

And  here  he  sees  in  his  vision  the  city  of  Kief,  with 
its  saints  and  throngs  of  priests ;  Romen,  with  its  mer- 
chants and  merchandise  ;  he  sees  Odest,  and  the  dis- 
tant blue  sea  studded  with  white  sails,  and  the  city  of 
Tsar-grad,1  with  its  golden  palaces,  and  the  white- 
breasted,  dark-browed  Turkish  maidens ;  and  thither 
he  flies,  lifting  himself  on  invisible  wings. 

He  flies  freely  and  easily,  always  farther  and  farther 
away,  and  sees  below  him  golden  cities  bathed  in  clear 
effulgence,  and  the  blue  sky  with  bright  stars,  and  a 
blue  sea  with  white  sails ;  and  smoothly  and  pleas- 
antly he  flies,  always  farther  and  farther  away  .  .  . 

44  Splendid  !"  whispers  Nekhliudof  to  himself;  and 
the  thought,  "  Why  am  I  not  Jlyushka?"  comes  to 
him. 

1  Constantinople. 


LUCERNE. 

FROM  THE  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  PRINCE  NEKHLIUDOF. 


July  20, 1857. 

Yesterday  evening  I  arrived  at  Lucerne,  and  put  up 
at  the  best  inn  there,  the  Schweitzerhof. 

44  Lucerne,  the  chief  city  of  the  canton,  situated  on 
the  shore  of  the  Vierwaldstatter  See,"  says  Murray, 
"  is  one  of  the  most  romantic  places  of  Switzerland: 
here  cross  three  important  highways,  and  it  is  only  an 
hour's  distance  by  steamboat  to  Mount  Righi,  from 
which  is  obtained  one  of  the  most  magnificent  views 
in  the  world." 

Whether  that  be  true  or  no,  other  Guides  say  the 
same  thing,  and  consequently  at  Lucerne  there  are 
throngs  of  travellers  of  all  nationalities,  especially  the 
English. 

The  magnificent  five-storied  building  of  the  Hotel 
Schweitzerhof  is  situated  on  the  quay,  at  the  very 
edge  of  the  lake,  where  in  olden  times  there  used  to  be 
the  crooked  covered  wooden  bridge 1  with  chapels  on  the 
corners  and  pictures  on  the  roof.  Now,  thanks  to  the 
tremendous  inroad  of  Englishmen,  with  their  necessi- 
ties, their  tastes,  and  their  money,  the  old  bridge  has 
been  torn  down,  and  in  its  place  has  been  erected  a 

1  Hofbriicke,  torn  down  in  1852. 

87 


88  LUCERNE. 

granite  quay,  straight  as  a  stick.  Ou  the  quay  are  built 
the  long,  quadrangular  five-storied  houses ;  in  front  of 
the  houses  two  rows  of  lindens  have  been  set  out  and 
provided  with  supports,  and  between  the  lindens  are 
the  usual  supply  of  green  benches. 

This  is  the  promenade ;  and  here  back  and  forth 
stroll  the  Englishwomen  in  their  Swiss  straw  hats,  and 
the  Englishmen  in  simple  and  comfortable  attire,  and 
rejoice  in  that  which  they  have  caused  to  be  created. 
Possibly  these  quays  and  houses  and  lindens  and 
Englishmen  would  be  excellent  in  their  way  anywhere 
else,  but  here  they  seem  discordant  amid  this  strangely 
grandiose  and  at  the  same  time  indescribably  harmoni- 
ous and  smiling  nature. 

As  soon  as  I  went  up  to  my  room,  and  opened  the 
window  facing  the  lake,  the  beauty  of  the  sheet  of 
water,  of  these  mountains,  and  of  this  sky,  at  the  first 
moment  literally  dazzled  and  overwhelmed  me.  I 
experienced  an  inward  unrest,  and  the  necessity  of 
expressing  in  some  manuer  the  feelings  that  suddenly 
filled  my  soul  to  overflowing.  I  felt  a  desire  to  em- 
brace, powerfully  to  embrace,  some  one,  to  tickle  him, 
or  to  pinch  him ;  in  short,  to  do  to  him  and  to  myself 
something  extraordinary. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  The  rain  had 
been  falling  all  day,  but  now  it  had  cleared  off. 

The  lake,  blue  as  heated  sulphur,  spread  out  before 
my  windows  smooth  and  motionless,  like  a  concave 
mirror  between  the  variegated  green  shores ;  its  sur- 
face was  dotted  with  boats,  which  left  behind  them 
vanishing  trails.  Farther  away  it  was  contracted 
between  two  monstrous  headlands,  and,  darkling,  set 
itself  against  and  disappeared  behind  a  confused  pile 
of    mountains,    clouds,    and   glaciers.      In    the   fore- 


L  UCERNE.  89 

ground  stretched  a  panorama  of  moist,  fresh  green 
shores,  with  reeds,  meadows,  gardens,  and  villas. 
Farther  away,  the  dark-green  wooded  heights,  crowned 
with  the  ruins  of  feudal  castles  ;  in  the  background, 
the  rolling,  pale-lilac-colored  vista  of  mountains,  with 
fantastic  peaks  built  up  of  crags  and  dead  white 
mounds  of  snow.  And  every  thing  was  bathed  in  a 
fresh,  transparent  atmosphere  of  azure  blue,  and  kin- 
dled by  the  warm  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  bursting 
forth  through  the  riven  skies. 

Not  on  the  lake  nor  on  the  mountains  nor  in  the 
skies  was  there  a  single  completed  line,  a  single 
unmixed  color,  a  single  moment  of  repose ;  every- 
where motion,  irregularity,  fantasy,  endless  conglom- 
eration and  variety  of  shades  and  lines ;  and  above 
all,  a  calm,  a  softness,  a  unity,  and  a  striving  for  the 
beautiful. 

And  here  amid  this  indefinable,  confused,  unfettered 
beauty,  before  my  very  window,  stretched  in  stupid 
kaleidoscopic  confusion  the  white  line  of  the  qua}-,  the 
lindens  with  their  supports,  and  the  green  seats,  — 
miserable,  tasteless  creations  of  human  ingenuity,  not 
subordinated,  like  the  distant  villas  and  ruins,  to  the 
general  harmony  of  the  beautiful  scene,  but  on  the 
contrary  brutally  contradicting  it.  .  .  .  Constantly, 
though  against  my  will,  my  eyes  were  attracted  to  that 
horribly  straight  line  of  the  qua}' ;  and  mentally  I 
should  have  liked  to  spurn  it,  to  demolish  it  like  a 
black  spot  disfiguring  the  nose  beneath  one's  eye. 

But  the  quay  with  the  sauntering  Englishmen  re- 
mained where  it  was,  and  I  involuntarily  tried  to  find 
a  point  of  view  where  it  would  be  out  of  my  sight. 
I  succeeded  in  finding  such  a  view  ;  and  till  dinner  was 
ready  1  took  delight,  alone  by  myself,  in  this  incom- 


90  LUCERNE. 

pletc  and  therefore  the  more  enjoyable  feeling  of 
oppression  that  one  experiences  In  the  solitary  contem- 
plation of  natural  beauty. 

About  half-past  seven  I  was  called  to  dinner.  Two 
long  tables,  accommodating  at  least  a  hundred  persons, 
were  spread  in  the  great,  magnificently  decorated  din- 
ing-room on  the  first  floor.  .  .  .  The  silent  gathering 
of  the  guests  lasted  three  minutes,  —  the  frou-frou 
of  women's  dresses,  the  soft  steps,  the  softly-spoken 
words  addressed  to  the  courtly  and  elegant  waiters. 
And  all  the  places  were  occupied  by  ladies  and  gentle- 
men dressed  elegantly,  even  richly,  and  for  the  most 
part  in  perfect  taste. 

As  is  apt  to  be  the  case  in  Switzerland,  the  majority 
of  the  guests  were  English,  and  this  gave  the  ruling 
characteristics  of  the  common  table :  that  is,  a  strict 
decorum  regarded  as  an  obligation,  a  reserve  founded 
not  in  pride  but  in  the  absence  of  any  necessity  for 
social  relationship,  and  finally  a  uniform  sense  of  sat- 
isfaction felt  by  each  in  the  comfortable  and  agreeable 
gratification  of  his  wants. 

On  all  sides  gleamed  the  whitest  laces,  the  whitest 
collars,  the  whitest  teeth,  —  natural  and  artificial, — 
the  whitest  complexions  and  hands.  But  the  faces, 
many  of  which  were  very  handsome,  bore  the  expres- 
sion merely  of  individual  prosperit}7,  and  absolute  ab- 
sence of  interest  in  all  that  surrounded  them  unless  it 
bore  directly. on  their  own  individual  selves;  and  the 
white  hands  glittering  with  rings,  or  protected  by  mitts, 
moved  only  for  the  purpose  of  straightening  collars, 
cutting  meat,  or  filling  wine-glasses ;  no  soul-felt 
emotion  was  betrayed  in  these  actions. 

Occasionally  members  of  some  one  family  would 
exchange  remarks  in  subdued  voices,  about  the  excel- 


LUCERNE.  91 

lence  of  such  and  such  a  dish  or  wine,  or  about  the 
beauty  of  the  view  from  Mount  Righi. 

Individual  tourists,  whether  men  or  women,  sat 
alongside  of  each  other  in  silence,  and  did  not  even 
seem  to  see  each  other.  If  it  happened  occasionally, 
that,  out  of  this  five-score  human  beings,  two  spoke  to 
each  other,  the  topic  of  their  conversation  consisted 
uniformly  in  the  weather,  or  the  ascent  of  the  Righi. 

Knives  and  forks  scarcely  rattled  on  the  plates,  so 
perfect  was  the  observance  of  propriety ;  and  no  one 
dared  to  convey  pease  and  vegetables  to  the  mouth 
otherwise  than  on  the  fork.  The  waiters,  involuntarily 
subdued  by  the  universal  silence,  asked  in  a  whisper 
what  wine  you  would  be  pleased  to  order. 

Such  dinners  invariably  depress  me :  I  dislike  them, 
and  before  they  are  over  I  become  blue.  ...  It 
always  seems  to  me  as  if  I  were  in  some  way  to  blame ; 
just  as  when  I  was  a  boy  I  was  set  upon  a  chair  in 
consequence  of  some  naughtiness,  and  bidden  ironi- 
cally, u  Now  rest  a  little  while,  my  dear  young  fellow." 
And  all  the  time  my  young  blood  was  pulsing  through 
my  veins,  and  in  the  other  room  I  could  hear  the  merry 
shouts  of  my  brothers. 

I  used  to  try  to  rebel  against  this  feeling  of  being 
choked  down,  which  I  experienced  at  such  dinners,  but 
in  vain.  All  these  dead-and-alive  faces  have  an  irre- 
sistible ascendency  over  me,  and  I  myself  become  also 
as  one  dead.  I  have  no  desires,  I  have  no  thoughts : 
I  do  not  even  observe. 

At  first  I  attempted  to  enter  into  conversation  with 
my  neighbors  ;  but  I  got  no  response  beyond  the  phrases 
which  had  been  repeated  in  that  place  a  hundred  times, 
a  thousand  times,  with  absolutely  no  variation  of  coun- 
tenance. 


92  LUCERNE. 

And  yet  these  people  were  by  no  means  .all  stupid 
and  feelingless;  but  evidently  many  of  them,  though 
they  seemed  bo  dead,  bad  got  into  the  habit  of  leading 
self-centred  lives,  which  in  reality  were  far  more  com- 
plioated  and  interesting  than  my  own.  Why,  then, 
should  they  deprive  themselves  of  one  of  the  greatest 
enjoyments  of  life, — the  enjoyment  that  comes  from 
the  intercourse  of  man  with  inau  ? 

How  different  it  used  to  be  in  our  pension  at  Paris, 
where  tweut}'  of  us,  belonging  to  as  many  different 
nationalities,  professions,  and  individualities,  met  to- 
gether at  a  common  table,  and,  under  the  influence  of 
the  Gallic  sociability,  found  the  keenest  zest ! 

There,  from  the  very  moment  that  we  sat  down,  from 
one  end  of  the  table  to  the  other,  was  general'  conver- 
sation, sandwiched  with  witticisms  and  puns,  though 
often  in  a  broken  speech.  There  every  one,  without 
being  solicitous  for  the  proprieties,  said  whatever  came 
into  his  head.  There  we  had  our  own  philosopher, 
our  own  disputant,  our  own  bel  esprit,  our  own  butt,  — 
all  common  propert}7. 

There,  immediately  after  dinner,  we  would  move  the 
table  to  one  side,  and,  without  paying  too  much  atten- 
tion to  rhythm,  take  to  dancing  the  polka  on  the  dusty 
carpet,  and  often  keep  it  up  till  evening.  There, 
though  we  were  rather  flirtatious,  and  not  over-wise, 
but  perfectly  respectable,  still  we  were  human  beings. 

And  the  Spanish  countess  with  romantic  proclivities, 
and  the  Italian  abbate  who  insisted  on  declaiming  from 
the  Divine  Comedy  after  dinner,  and  the  American 
doctor  who  had  the  entree  into  the  Tuileries,  and  the 
young  dramatic  author  with  long  hair,  and  the  pianist 
who,  according  to  her  own  account,  had  composed  the 
best  polka  in  existence,  and  the  unhappy  widow  who 


LUCERNE.  93 

was  a  beauty,  and  wore  three  rings  on  every  finger,  — 
all  of  us  enjoyed  this  society,  which,  though  some- 
what superficial,  was  human  and  pleasant.  And  we 
each  carried  away  from  it  hearty  recollections  of  each 
other,  perhaps  lighter  in  some  cases,  and  more  serious 
in  others. 

But  at  these  English  table-dlidte  dinners,  as  I  look 
at  all  these  laces,  ribbons,  jewels,  pomaded  locks,  and 
silken  dresses,  I  often  think  how  many  living  women 
would  be  happy,  and  would  make  others  happy,  with 
these  adornments. 

Strange  to  think  how  many  friends  and  lovers  — 
most  fortunate  friends  and  lovers  —  are  sitting  here 
side  by  side,  without,  perhaps,  knowing  it !  And  God 
knows  why  they  never  come  to  this  knowledge,  and 
never  give  each  other  this  happiness,  which  the}7  might 
so  easily  give,  and  which  they  so  long  for. 

I  began  to  feel  blue,  as  invariably  happens  after 
such  a  dinner;  and,  without  waiting  for  dessert,  I 
sallied  out  in  the  same  frame  of  mind  for  a  constitu- 
tional through  the  city.  My  melancholy  frame  of 
mind  was  not  relieved,  but  rather  confirmed  by  the 
narrow,  muddy  streets  without  lanterns,  the  shuttered 
shops,  the  encounters  with  drunken  workmen,  and 
with  women  hastening  after  water,  or  in  bonnets, 
glancing  around  them  as  they  turned  the  corners. 

It  was  perfectly  dark  in  the  streets,  when  I  returned 
to  the  hotel  without  casting  a  glance  about  me,  or 
having  an  idea  in  my  head.  I  hoped  that  sleep  would 
put  an  end  to  my  melancholy.  I  experienced  that 
peculiar  spiritual  chill  and  loneliness  and  heaviness, 
which,  without  any  reason,  beset  those  who  are  just 
arrived  in  any  new  place. 

Looking  steadfastly  down,  I  walked  along  the  quay 


94  /.  re ERNE. 

to  the  Schweitzerhof,  when  suddenly  my  ear  was  struck 
by  the  strums  of  a  peculiar  but  thoroughly  agreeable 
and  sweet  music. 

These  strains  had  an  immediately  enlivening  effect 
upon  me.  It  was  as  though  a  bright,  cheerful  light 
had  poured  into  my  soul.  I  felt  contented,  gay.  My 
slumbering  attention  was  awakened  agaiu  to  all  sur- 
rounding objects ;  and  the  beauty  of  the  night  and 
the  lake,  to  which  till  then  I  had  been  indifferent, 
suddenly  came  over  me  with  quickening  force  like  a 
novelty. 

I  involuntarily  took  in  at  a  glance  the  dark  sky 
with  gray  clouds  flecking  its  deep  blue,  now  lighted  by 
the  rising  moon,  the  glassy  dark-green  lake  with  its 
surface  reflecting  the  lighted  windows,  and  far  away 
the  snowy  mountains  ;  and  I  heard  the  croaking  of  the 
frogs  over  on  the  Freshenburg  shore,  and  the  dewy 
fresh  call  of  the  quail. 

Directly  in  front  of  me,  in  the  spot  whence  the  sounds 
of  music  had  first  come,  and  which  still  especially 
attracted  my  attention,  I  saw,  amid  the  semi-darkness 
.  on  the  street,  a  throng  of  people  standing  in  a  semi- 
circle, and  in  front  of  the  crowd,  at  a  little  distance, 
a  small  man  in  dark  clothes. 

Behind  the  throng  and  the  man,  there  stood  out  har- 
moniously against  the  dark,  ragged  sky,  gray  and  blue, 
the  black  tops  of  a  few  Lombardy  poplars  in  some 
garden,  and,  rising  majestically  on  high,  the  two  stern 
spires  that  stand  on  the  towers  of  the  ancient  cathedral. 

I  drew  nearer,  and  the  strains  became  more  distinct. 
At  some  distance  I  could  clearly  distinguish  the  full 
accords  of  a  guitar,  sweetty  swelling  in  the  evening 
air,  and  several  voices,  which,  while  taking  turns  with 
each  other,  did  not  sing  any  definite  theme,  but  gave 


LUCERNE.  95 

suggestions  of  one  in  places  wherever  the  melody  was 
most  pronounced. 

The  theme  was  in  somewhat  the  nature  of  a  mazurka, 
sweet  and  graceful.  The  voices  sounded  now  near  at 
hand,  now  far  distant ;  now  a  bass  was  heard,  now 
a  tenor,  now  a  falsetto  such  as  the  Tyrolese  warblers 
are  wont  to  sing. 

It  was  not  a  song,  but  the  graceful  masterly  sketck 
of  a  song.  I  could  not  comprehend  what  it  was,  but 
it  was  beautiful. 

Those  voluptuous,  soft  chords  of  the  guitar,  that 
sweet,  gentle  melody,  and  that  solitary  figure  of  the 
man  in  black,  amid-  the  fantastic  environment  of 
the  lake,  the  gleaming  moon,  and  the  twin  spires  of  the 
cathedral  rising  in  majestic  silence,  and  the  black 
tops  of  the  poplars,  —  ail  was  strange  and  perfectly 
beautiful,  or  at  least  seemed  so  to  me. 

All  the  confused,  arbitrary  impressions  of  life  sud- 
denly became  full  of  meaning  and  beauty.  It  seemed 
to  me  as  though  a  fresh  fragrant  flower  had  sprung  up 
in  my  soul.  In  place  of  the  weariness,  dulness,  and 
indifference  toward  every  thing  in  the  world,  which 
I  had  been  feeling  the  moment  before,  I  experienced  a 
necessity  for  love,  a  fulness  of  hope,  and  an  unbounded 
enjoyment  of  life. 

"  What  dost  thou  desire,  what  dost  thou  long  for?  " 
an  inner  voice  seemed  to  say.  "  Here  it  is.  Thou 
art  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  beauty  and  poetry. 
Breathe  it  in,  in  full,  deep  draughts,  as  long  as  thou 
hast  strength.  Enjoy  it  to  the  full  extent  of  thy 
capacity.     'Tis  all  thine,  all  blessed  !  " 

I  drew  nearer.  The  little  man  was,  as  it  seemed,  a 
travelling  Tyrolese.  He  stood  before  the  windows  of 
the  hotel,  one  leg  a  little  advanced,  his  head  thrown 


96  LUCERNE. 

back  ;  and,  as  he  thrummed  on  the  guitar,  he  sang  his 
graceful  song  in  all  those  different  voices. 

I  immediately  felt  an  affection  for  this  man,  and  a 
gratefulness  for  the  change  which  be  bad  brought  about 
in  me. 

The  singer,  so  far  as  I  was  able  to  judge,  was  dressed 
in  an  old  black  coat.  lie  had  short  black  hair,  and  he 
wore  a  civilian's  hat  that  was  no  longer  new.  There 
was  nothing  artistic  in  his  attire,  but  his  clever  and 
youthfully  gay  motions  and  pose,  together  with  his 
diminutive  stature,  formed  a  pleasing  and  at  the  same 
time  pathetic  spectacle. 

On  the  steps,  in  the  windows,  and  on  the  balconies 
of  the  brilliantly  lighted  hotel,  stood  ladies  handsomely 
decorated  and  attired,  gentlemen  with  polished  collars, 
porters  and  lackeys  in  gold-embroidered  liveries ;  in 
the  street,  in  the  semicircle  of  the  crowd,  and  farther 
along  on  the  sidewalk,  among  the  lindens,  were  gath- 
ered groups  of  well-dressed  waiters,  cooks  in  white  caps 
and  aprons,  and  young  girls  wandering  about  with  arms 
about  each  other's  waists. 

All,  it  seemed,  were  under  the  influence  of  the  same 
feeling  that  I  myself  experienced.  All  stood  in  silence 
around  the  singer,  and  listened  attentively.  Silence 
reigned,  except  in  the  pauses  of  the  song,  when  there 
came  from  far  away  across  the  waters  the  regular  click 
of  a  hammer,  and  from  the  Freshenburg  shore  rang  in 
fascinating  monotone  the  voices  of  the  frogs,  interrupted 
b}r  the  mellow,  monotonous  call  of  the  quail. 

The  little  man  in  the  darkness,  in  the  midst  of  the 
street,  poured  out  his  heart  like  a  nightingale,  in  coup- 
let after  couplet,  song  after  song.  Though  I  had  come 
close  to  him,  his  singing  continued  to  give  me  greater 
and  greater  gratification. 


LUCERNE.  97 

His  voice,  which  was  not  of  great  power,  was  ex- 
tremely pleasant  and  tender ;  the  taste  and  feeling  for 
rhythm  which  he  displayed  in  the  control  of  it  were 
extraordinary,  and  proved  that  he  had  great  natural 
gifts. 

After  he  sung  each  couplet,  he  invariably  repeated 
the  theme  in  variation,  and  it  was  evident  that  all  his 
graceful  variations  came  to  him  at  the  instant,  spon- 
taneously. 

Among  the  crowd,  and  above  on  the  Schweitzerhof, 
and  near  by  on  the  boulevard,  were  heard  frequent 
murmurs  of  approval,  though  generally  the  most  re- 
spectful silence  reigned. 

The  balconies  and  the  windows  kept  filling  more  and 
more  with  handsomely  dressed  men  and  women  leaning 
on  their  elbows,  and  picturesquely  illuminated  by  the 
lights  in  the  house. 

Promenaders  came  to  a  halt,  and  in  the  darkness  on 
the  quay  stood  men  and  women  in  little  groups.  Near 
me,  at  some  distance  from  the  common  crowd,  stood 
an  aristocratic  cook  and  lackey,  smoking  their  cigars. 
The  cook  was  forcibly  impressed  by  the  music,  and  at 
every  high  falsetto  note  enthusiastically  nodded  his 
head  to  the  lackey,  and  nudged  him  with  his  elbow 
with  an  expression  of  astonishment  that  seemed  to  say, 
"  How  he  sings  !  hey?" 

The  lackey,  whose  careless  smile  betrayed  the  depth 
of  feeling  that  he  experienced,  replied  to  the  cook's 
nudges  by  shrugging  his  shoulders,  as  if  to  show  that 
it  was  hard  enough  for  him  to  be  made  enthusiastic, 
and  that  he  had  heard  much  better  music. 

In  one  of  the  pauses  of  his  song,  while  the  minstrel 
was  clearing  his  throat,  I  asked  the  lackey  who  he  was, 
and  if  he  often  came  there. 


98  LUCERNE. 

44  Twice  this  summer  he  1ms  been  here,"  replied  the 
lackey.  u  He  is  from  Aargau ;  he  goes  round  beg- 
ging-" 

14 Well,  do  many  like  him  come  round  here?"  I 
asked. 

44  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  lackey,  not  comprehending 
the  full  force  of  what  I  asked ;  but,  immediately  after, 
recollecting  himself,  he  added,  kl  Oh,  no.  This  one  is 
the  only  one  I  ever  heard  here.     No  one  else." 

At  this  moment  the  little  man  had  finished  his  first 
song,  briskly  twanged  his  guitar,  and  said  something 
in  his  German  patois,  which  I  could  not  understand, 
but  which  brought  forth  a  hearty  round  of  laughter 
from  the  surrounding  throng. 

44  What  was  that  he  said?  "  I  asked. 

44  He  says  that  his  throat  is  dried  up,  he  would  like 
some  wine,"  replied  the  lackey  who  was  standing  near 
me. 

44  What?  is  he  rather  fond  of  the  glass?  " 

44  Yes,  all  that  sort  of  people  are,"  replied  the 
lackey,  smiling  and  pointing  at  the  minstrel. 

The  minstrel  took  off  his  cap,  and  swinging  his  guitar 
went  toward  the  hotel.  Raising  his  head,  he  addressed 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  standing  by  the  windows  and 
on  the  balconies,  saying  in  a  half-Italian,  half-German 
accent,  and  with  the  same  intonation  that  jugglers  use 
in  speaking  to  their  audiences,  — 

41  Messieurs  et  mesdames,  si  vous  croyez  que  je  gagne 
quelque  chose,  vous  vous  trompez:  je  ne  suis  qu'un 
pauvre  tiaple." 

He  stood  in  silence  a  moment,  but  as  no  one  gave  him 
any  thing,  he  once  more  took  up  his  guitar  and  said,  — 

44  A  present,  messieurs  et  mesdames ,  je  vous  chanterai 
Vair  du  Rigid." 


LUCERNE.  99 

His  hotel  audience  made  no  response,  but  stood  in 
expectation  of  the  coming  song.  Below  on  the  street 
a  laugh  went  round,  probably  in  part  because  he  had 
expressed  himself  so  strangely,  and  in  part  because  no 
one  had  given  him  any  thing. 

I  gave  him  a  few  centimes,  which  he  deftly  changed 
from  one  hand  to  the  other,  and  bestowed  them  in  his 
vest-pocket ;  and  then,  replacing  his  cap,  began  once 
more  to  sing  the  graceful,  sweet  Tyrolese  melody  which 
he  had  called  Fair  da  Rigid. 

This  song,  which  formed  the  last  on  his  programme, 
was  even  better  than  the  preceding,  and  from  all  sides 
in  the  wondering  throng  were  heard  sounds  of  appro- 
bation. 

He  finished.  Again  he  swung  his  guitar,  took  off 
his  cap,  held  it  out  in  front  of  him,  went  two  or  three 
steps  nearer  to  the  windows,  and  again  repeated  his 
stock  phrase,  — 

"  Messieurs  et  mesdames,  si  vous  croyez  que  je  gagne 
quelque  chose"  which  he  evidently  considered  to  be 
very  shrewd  and  witty ;  but  in  his  voice  and  motions 
I  perceived  a  certain  irresolution  and  childish  timidity 
which  were  especially  touching  in  a  person  of  such 
diminutive  stature. 

The  elegant  public,  still  picturesquely  grouped  in  the 
lighted  windows  and  on  the  balconies,  were  shining  in 
their  rich  attire ;  a  few  conversed  in  soberly  discreet 
tones,  apparently  about  their  singer  who  was  standing 
there  below  them  with  outstretched  hand  ;  others  gazed 
down  with  attentive  curiosity  on  the  little  black  figure  ; 
on  one  balcony  could  be  heard  the  merry,  ringing 
laughter  of  some  young  girl. 

In  the  surrounding  crowd  the  talk  and  laughter  grew 
constantly  louder  and  louder. 


100  LUCERNE. 

The  singer  for  the  third  time  repeated  his  phrase, 
but  in  a  still  weaker  voice,  and  did  not  even  end  the 
sentcnee  ;  and  again  he  stretched  his  hand  with  his  cap, 
but  instantly  drew  it  back.  Again  not  one  of  those 
brilliantly  dressed  scores  of  people  standing  to  listen 
to  hiin  threw  him  a  penny. 

The  crowd  laughed  heartlessly. 

The  little  singer,  so  it  seemed  to  me,  shrunk  more 
into  himself,  took  his  guitar  into  his  other  hand,  lifted 
his  cap,  and  said,  — 

11  Messieurs  et  mesclames,  je  vous  remercie,  et  je  vous 
souhais  une  bonne  nuit."     Then  he  put  on  his  hat. 

The  crowd  cackled  with  laughter  and  satisfaction 
The  handsome  ladies  and  gentlemen,  calmly  exchun 
giug  remarks,  withdrew  gradually  from  the  balconies 
On  the  boulevard  the  promenading  began  once  more 
The  street,  which  had  been  still  during  the  singing 
assumed  its  wonted  liveliness ;  a  few  men,  however 
stood  at  some  distance,  and,  without  approaching  the 
singer,  looked  at  him  and  laughed. 

I  heard  the  little  man  muttering  something  between 
his  teeth  as  he  turned' awa}T ;  and  I  saw  him,  apparently 
growing  more  and  more  diminutive,  hurry  toward  the 
city  with  brisk  steps.  The  promenaders  who  had  been 
looking  at  him  followed  him  at  some  distance,  still 
making  merry  at  his  expense.  My  mind  was  in  a 
whirl ;  I  could  not  comprehend  what  it  all  meant ;  and 
still  standing  in  the  same  place,  I  gazed  abstractedly 
into  the  darkness  after  the  little  man,  who  was  fast 
disappearing,  as  he  went  with  ever-increasing  swiftness 
with  long  strides  into  the  city,  followed  by  the  merry- 
making promenaders. 

I  was  overmastered  by  a  feeling  of  pain,  of  bitter- 
ness, and  above  all,  of  shame  for  the  little  man,  for  the 


LUCERNE.  101 

crowd,  for  myself,  as  though  it  were  I  who  had  asked 
for  money  and  received  none  ;  as  though  it  were  I  who 
had  been  turned  to  ridicule. 

Without  looking  any  longer,  feeling  my  heart  op- 
pressed, I  also  hurried  with  long  strides  toward  the 
entrance  of  the  Schweitzerhof.  I  could  not  explain 
the  feeling  that  overmastered  me  ;  only  there  was  some- 
thing like  a  stone,  from  which  I  could  not  free  myself, 
weighing  down  my  soul  and  oppressing  me. 

At  the  ample,  well-lighted  entrance,  I  met  the  porter, 
who  politely  made  way  for  me.  An  English  family 
was  also  at  the  door.  A  portiy,  handsome,  and  tall 
gentleman,  with  black  side-whiskers,  in  a  black  hat, 
and  with  a  plaid  on  one  arm,  while  in  his  hand  he 
carried  a  costly  cane,  came  out  slowly  and  full  of  im- 
portance. Leaning  on  his  arm  was  a  lady,  who  wore 
a  raw  silk  dress  and  bonnet  with  bright  ribbons  and 
the  most  costly  laces.  Together  with  them  was  a 
pretty,  fresh-looking  young  lady,  in  a  graceful  Swiss 
hat  with  a  feather  a  la  mousquetaire;  from  under  it 
escaped  long  light-yellow  curls  softly  encircling  her 
fair  face.  In  front  of  them  skipped  a  buxom  girl  of 
ten,  with  round  white  knees  which  showed  from  under 
her  thin  embroideries.  *.*  Magnificent  night !  "  the  lady 
was  saying  in  a  sweet,  happy  voice,  as  I  passed  them. 

tk  Oh,  yes,"  growled  the  Englishman  lazily;  and  it 
was  evident  that  he  found  it  so  enjoyable  to  be  alive  in 
the  world,  that  it  was  too  much  trouble  even  to  speak. 

And  it  seemed  as  though  all  of  them  alike  found  it 
so  comfortable  and  easy,  so  light  and  free,  to  be  alive  in 
the  world,  their  faces  and  motions  expressed  such  per- 
fect indifference  to  the  lives  of  every  one  else,  and  such 
absolute  confidence  that  it  was  to  them  that  the  porter 
made  way  and  bowed  so  profoundly,  and   that  when 


102  LUCERNE. 

they  returned  they  would  find  clean,  comfortable  beds 
and  rooms,  and  that  all  this  was  bound  to  be,  and  was 
their  indefeasible  right,  that  I  involuntarily  contrasted 
them  with  the  wandering  minstrel  who  weary,  perhaps 
hungry,  full  of  shame,  was  retreating  before  the  laugh- 
ing crowd.  And  then  suddenly  I  comprehended  what 
it  was  that  oppressed  my  heart  with  such  a  load  of 
heaviness,  and  I  felt  an  iudescribablc  anger  against 
these  people. 

Twice  I  walked  up  and  down  past  the  Englishman, 
and  each  time,  without  turning  out  for  him,  my  elbow 
punched  him,  which  gave  me  a  feeling  of  indescribable 
satisfaction ;  and  then,  darting  down  the  steps,  I 
hastened  through  the  darkness  in  the  direction  toward 
the  city  taken  by  the  little  man. 

Overtaking  the  three  men  who  had  been  walking 
together,  I  asked  them  where  the  singer  was;  they 
laughed,  and  pointed  straight  ahead.  There  he  was, 
walking  alone  with  brisk  steps  ;  no  one  was  with  him  ; 
all  the  time,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  he  was  indulging  in 
bitter  monologue. 

I  caught  up  with  him,  and  proposed  to  him  to  go 
somewhere  with  me  and  drink  a  bottle  of  wine.  He 
kept  on  with  his  rapid  walk,  and  scarcely  deigned  to 
look  at  me  ;  but  when  he  perceived  what  I  was  saying, 
he  halted. 

"Well,  I  would  not  refuse,  if  you  would  be  so  kind," 
said  he;  "here  is  a  little  cafe\  we  can  go  in  there. 
It's  not  fashionable,"  he  added,  pointing  to  a  drinking- 
saloon  that  was  still  open. 

His  expression  "not  fashionable"  involuntarily  sug- 
gested the  idea  of  not  going  to  an  unfashionable  caf6, 
but  to  go  to  the  Schweitzerhof ,  where  those  who  had 
been  listening  to  him  were.     Notwithstanding  the  fact 


LUCERNE.  103 

that  several  times  he  showed  a  sort  of  timid  disquietude 
at  the  idea  of  going  to  the  Schweitzerhof,  declaring 
that  it  was  too  fine  for  him  there,  still  I  insisted  in 
carrying  out  my  purpose ;  and  he,  putting  the  best 
face  on  the  matter,  gayly  swinging  his  guitar,  went 
back  with  me  across  the  quay. 

A  few  loiterers  who  had  happened  along  as  I  was 
talking  with  the  minstrel,  and  had  stopped  to  hear  what 
I  had  to  say,  now,  after  arguing  among  themselves, 
followed  us  to  the  very  entrance  of  the  hotel,  evidently 
expecting  from  the  Tyrolese  some  further  demonstra- 
tion. 

I  ordered  a  bottle  of  wine  of  a  waiter  whom  I  met 
in  the  hall.  The  waiter  smiled  and  looked  at  us,  and 
went  by  without  answering.  The  head  waiter,  to  whom 
1  addressed  myself  with  the  same  order,  listened  to 
me  solemnly,  and,  measuring  the  minstrel's  modest  little 
figure  from  head  to  foot,  sternly  ordered  the  waiter  to 
take  us  to  the  room  at  the  left. 

The  room  at  the  left  was  a  bar-room  for  simple 
people.  In  the  corner  of  this  room  a  hunchbacked 
maid  was  washing  dishes.  The  whole  furniture  con- 
sisted of  bare  wooden  tables  and  benches. 

The  waiter  who  came  to  serve  us  looked  at  ns  with 
a  supercilious  smile,  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  exchanged  some  remarks  with  the  humpbacked 
dish-washer.  He  evidently  tried  to  give  us  to  under- 
stand that  he  felt  himself  immeasurably  higher  than 
the  minstrel,  both  in  dignity  and  social  position,  so  that 
he  considered  it  not  only  an  indignity,  but  even  an 
actual  joke,  that  he  was  called  upon  to  serve  us. 

"Do  you  wish  vin  ordinaire?"  he  asked  with  a 
knowing  look,  winking  toward  my  companion,  and 
switching  his  napkin  from  one  hand  to  the  other 


104  LUCERNE. 

44  Champagne,  and  your  very  best,"  said  I,  endeav- 
oring to  assume  my  haughtiest  and  most  imposing 
appearanoe. 

Hut  neither  my  champagne,  nor  my  endeavor  to  look 
haughty  and  imposing,  had  the  least  effect  on  the  ser- 
vant :  lie  smiled  incredulously,  loitered  a  moment  or 
two  gazing  at  us,  took  time  enough  to  glance  at  his 
gold  watch,  and  with  leisurely  steps,  as  though  going 
out  for  a  walk,  left  the  room. 

Soon  he  returned  with  the  wine,  bringing  two  other 
waiters  with  him.  These  two  sat  down  near  the  dish- 
washer, and  gazed  at  us  with  amused  attention  and  a 
bland  smile,  just  as  parents  gaze  at  their  children  when 
they  are  gently  playing.  Only  the  dish-washer,  it 
seemed  to  me,  did  not  look  at  us  scornfully  but  sym- 
pathetically. 

Though  it  was  trying  and  awkward  to  lunch  with  the 
minstrel,  and  to  play  the  entertainer,  under  the  fire  of 
all  these  waiters'  eyes,  I  tried  to  do  my  duty  with  as 
little  constraint  as  possible.  In  the  lighted  room  I 
could  sec  him  better.  He  was  a  small  but  symmetri- 
cally built  and  muscular  man,  though  almost  a  dwarf 
in  stature ;  he  had  bristly  black  hair,  teary  big  black 
eyes,  bushy  eyebrows,  and  a  thoroughly  pleasant,  at- 
tractively shaped  mouth.  He  had  little  side-whiskers, 
his  hair  was  short,  his  attire  was  very  simple  and  mean. 
He  was  not  over-clean,  was  ragged  and  sunburnt,  and 
in  general  had  the  look  of  a  laboring-man.  He  was  far 
more  like  a  poor  tradesman  than  an  artist. 

Only  in  his  ever  humid  and  brilliant  eyes,  and  in  his 
firm  mouth,  was  there  any  sign  of  originality  or  genius. 
By  his  face  it  might  be  conjectured  that  his  age  was 
between  twenty-five  and    forty ;    in   reality,    he   was 

tjUfcty-6QVfclL^_ 


LUCERNE.  105 

Here  is  what  he  related  to  me,  with  good-natured 
readiness  and  evident  sincerity,  of  his  life.  He  was  a 
native  of  Aargau.  In  early  childhood  he  had  lost 
father  and  mother ;  other  relatives  he  had  none.  He 
had  never  owned  airy  property.  He  had  been  appren- 
ticed to  a  carpenter ;  but  twenty-two  years  previously 
one  of  his  hands  had  been  attacked  by  caries,  which 
had  prevented  him  from  ever  working  again. 

From  childhood  he  had  been  fond  of  singing,  and 
he  began  to  be  a  singer.  Occasionally  strangers  had 
given  him  money.  With  this  he  had  learned  his  pro- 
fession, bought  his  guitar,  and  now  for  eighteen  years 
he  had  been  wandering  about  through  Switzerland  and 
Italy,  singing  before  hotels.  His  whole  luggage  con- 
sisted of  his  guitar,  and  a  little  purse  in  which,  at  the 
present  time,  there  was  only  half  a  franc.  That  would 
have  to  suffice  for  supper  and  lodgings  this  night. 

Every  year  now  for  eighteen  years  he  had  made  the 
round  of  the  best  and  most  popular  resorts  of  Switzer- 
land, —  Zurich,  Lucerne,  Interlaken,  Chamounix,  etc. ; 
by  the  way  of  the  St.  Bernard  he  would  go  down  into 
Italy,  and  return  over  the  St.  Gothard,  or  through 
Savoy.  Just  at  present  it  was  rather  hard  for  him  to 
walk,  as  he  had  caught  a  cold,  causing  him  to  suffer 
from  some  trouble  in  his  legs,  —  he  called  it  rheuma- 
tism,—  which  grew  more  severe  from  year  to  year; 
and,  moreover,  his  voice  and  eyes  had  grown  weaker. 
Nevertheless,  he  was  on  his  way  to  Interlaken,  Aix- 
les-Bains,  and  thence  over  the  Little  St.  Bernard  to 
Italy,  which  he  was  very  fond  of.  It  was  evident  that 
on  the  whole  he  was  well  content  with  his  life. 

When  I  asked  him  why  he  returned  home,  if  he  had* 
any  relatives  there,  or  a  house  and  land,  his  mouth 
parted  in  a  guy  smile,  and  he  replied,  ■*  Oui,  le  sucre 


106  LUCERNE. 

est  6on,  il  est  doux  pour  les  enfants!  "  and  he  winked 
at  the  servants. 

I  did  not  catch  his  meaning,  but  the  group  of  ser- 
vants burst  out  laughing. 

"  No,  I  have  nothing  of  the  sort,  but  still  I  should 
always  want  to  go  back,"  he  explained  to  me.  "  I 
go  home  because  there  is  always  a  something  that 
draws  one  to  one's  native  place."  And  once  more  he 
repeated  with  a  shrewd,  self-satisfied  smile,  his  phrase, 
44  Oui,  le  sucre  est  6o»,"  and  then  laughed  good- 
naturedly. 

The  servants  were  very  much  amused,  and  laughed 
heartily ;  only  the  hunchbacked  dish-washer  looked 
earnestly  from  her  big  kindly  eyes  at  the  little  man, 
and  picked  up  his  cap  for  him,  when,  as  we  talked,  he 
once  knocked  it  off  the  bench.  I  have  noticed  that 
wandering  minstrels,  acrobats,  even  jugglers,  delight 
in  calling  themselves  artists,  and  several  times  I  hinted 
to  my  comrade  that  he  was  an  artist ;  but  he  did  not 
at  all  accept  this  designation,  but  with  perfect  sim- 
plicity looked  upon  his  work  as  a  means  of  existence. 

When  I  asked  him  if  he  had  not  himself  written  the 
songs  which  he  sang,  he  showed  great  surprise  at  such 
a  strange  question,  and  replied  that  the  words  of  what- 
ever he  sang  were  all  of  old  Tyrolese  origin. 

"  But  how  about  that  song  of  the  Righi?  I  think 
that  cannot  be  very  ancient,"  I  suggested. 

u  Oh,  that  was  composed  about  fifteen  years  ago. 
There  was  a  German  in  Basle ;  he  was  a  clever  man  ; 
it  was  he  who  composed  it.  A  splendid  song.  You 
see  he  composed  it  especially  for  travellers. v  And  he 
began  to  repeat  the  words  of  the  Righi  song,  which  he 
liked  so  well,  translating  them  into  French  as  he  went 
along. 


LUCERNE.  107 

"  If  you  wish  to  go  to  Righi, 
You  will  not  need  shoes  to  Wegis, 
(For  you  go  that  far  by  steamboat). 
But  from  Wegis  take  a  stout  staff, 
Also  take  upon  your  arm  a  maiden; 
Brink  a  glass  of  wine  on  starting, 
Only  do  not  drink  too  freely, 
For  if  you  desire  to  drink  here, 
You  must  earn  the  right  to,  first." 

"Oh!  a  splendid  song!  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  fin- 
ished. 

The  servants,  evidently,  also  found  the  song  much  to 
their  mind,  because  they  came  up  closer  to  us. 

"Yes,  but  who  was  it  composed  the  music?"  I 
asked. 

"Oh,  no  one  at  all;  you  know  you  must  have 
something  new  when  you  are  going  to  sing  for 
strangers." 

When  the  ice  was  brought,  and  I  had  given  my  com- 
rade a  glass  of  champagne,  he  seemed  somewhat  ill  at 
ease,  and,  glancing  at  the  servants,  he  turned  and 
twisted  on  the  bench. 

We  touched  our  glasses  to  the  health  of  all  artists ; 
he  drank  half  a  glass,  then  he  seemed  to  be  collecting 
his  ideas,  and  knit  his  brows  in  deep  thought. 

"  It  is  long  since  I  have  tasted  such  wine,  je  ne  vous 
dis  que  $a.  In  Italy  the  vino  d'Asti  is  excellent,  but 
this  is  still  better.  Ah !  Italy ;  it  is  splendid  to  be 
there  !  "  he  added. 

"  Yes,  there  they  know  how  to  appreciate  music  and 
artists,"  said  I,  trying  to  bring  him  round  to  the  even- 
ing's mischance  before  the  Schweitzerhof. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "  There,  as  far  as  music  is  con- 
cerned, I  cannot  give  anybody  satisfaction.  The 
Italians  are  themselves  musicians,  —  none  like  them  in 


108  LUCERNE. 

the  world ;  but  I  know  only  Tyrolese  songs.  They 
are  something  of  a  novelty  to  them,  though." 

u  Well,  you  fiud  rather  more  generous  gentlemen 
there,  don't  you?  "  I  went  on  to  say,  anxious  to  make 
him  share  in  my  resentment  against  the  guests  of  the 
Schweitzerhof.  "  There  it  would  not  be  possible  to 
find  a  big  hotel  frequented  by  rich  people,  where,  out 
of  a  hundred  listening  to  an  artist's  singing,  not  one 
would  give  him  any  thing." 

My  question  utterly  failed  of  the  effect  that  I  ex- 
pected. It  did  not  enter  his  head  to  be  indignant  with 
them  :  on  the  contrary,  he  saw  in  my  remark  an  implied 
slur  upon  his  talent  which  had  failed  of  its  reward,  and 
he  hastened  to  set  himself  right  before  me.  "  It  is 
not  every  time  that  you  get  any  thing,"  he  remarked ; 
44  sometimes  one  isn't  in  good  voice,  or  you  are  tired ; 
now  to-da}'  I  have  been  walking  ten  hours,  and  singing 
almost  all  the  time.  That  is  hard.  And  these  impor- 
tant aristocrats  do  not  always  care  to  listen  to  Tyrolese 
songs." 

"  But  still,  how  can  they  help  giving?"  I  insisted. 

He  did  not  comprehend  my  remark. 

M  That's  nothing,"  he  said  ;  4t  but  here  the  principal 
thing  is,  on  est  tres  serve"  pour  la  police,  that's  what's 
the  trouble.  Here,  according  to  these  republican  laws, 
you  are  not  allowed  to  sing ;  but  in  Italy  you  can  go 
wherever  you  please,  no  one  says  a  word.  Here,  if 
they  want  to  let  you,  they  let  you ;  but  if  the}'  don't 
want  to,  then  they  can  throw  you  into  jail." 

4 '  What  ?     That's  incredible  !  ' ' 

41  Yes,  it  is  true.  If  you  have  been  warned  once,  and 
are  found  singing  again,  they  may  put  you  in  jail.  I 
was  kept  there  three  months  once,"  he  said,  smiling  as 
though  that  were  one  of  his  pleasantest  recollections. 


LUCERNE.  109 

"  Oh  !  that  is  terrible  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  What  was 
the  reason  ? ' ' 

"  That  was  in  consequence  of  one  of  the  new  repub- 
lican laws,"  he  went  on  to  explain,  growing  animated. 
4 '  They  cannot  comprehend  here  that  a  poor  fellow 
must  earn  his  living  somehow.  If  I  were  not  a  cripple, 
I  would  work.  But  what  harm  do  I  do  to  any  one 
in  the  world  by  my  singing?  What  does  it  mean? 
The  rich  can  live  as  they  wish,  un  pauvre  tiaple  like 
myself  can't  live  at  all.  What  kind  of  laws  are  these 
republican  ones?  If  that  is  the  way  they  run,  then  we 
don't  want  a  republic  :  isn't  that  so,  my  dear  sir?  We 
don't  want  a  republic,  but  we  want  —  we  simply  want 
—  we  want  "  —  he  hesitated  a  little,  —  "  we  want 
natural  laws." 

I  filled  up  his  glass.  "  You  are  not  drinking,"  I 
said. 

He  took  the  glass  in  his  hand,  and  bowed  to  me. 

"  I  know  what  you  wish,"  he  said,  blinking  his  eyes 
at  me,  and  threatening  me  with  his  finger.  "You 
wish  to  make  me  drunk,  so  as  to  see  what  you  can  get 
out  of  me  ;  but  no,  you  sha'n't  have  that  gratification." 

4 'Why  should  I  make  you  drunk?"  I  inquired. 
I* All  I  wished  was  to  give  }*ou  a  pleasure." 

He  seemed  really  sorry  that  he  had  offended  me  by 
interpreting  my  insistence  so  harshly.  He  grew  con- 
fused, stood  up,  and  touched  my  elbow. 

"  No,  no,"  said  he,  looking  at  me  with  a  beseeching 
expression  in  his  moist  eyes.     "  I  was  only  joking." 

And  immediately  after  he  made  use  of  some  horribly 
uncultivated  slang  expression,  intended  to  signify  that 
I  was,  nevertheless,  a  fine  }Toung  man.  "  Je  ne  vous 
(lis  que  fa,"  he  said  in  conclusion.  In  this  fashion 
the  minstrel  and  I  continued  to  drink  and  converse ; 


110  LUCERNE. 

and  the  waiters  continued  unceremoniously  to  stare  at 
us,  aud,  as  it  seemed,  to  make  ridicule  of  us. 

In  spite  of  the  interest  which  our  conversation 
aroused  in  me,  I  could  not  avoid  taking  notice  of  their 
behavior ;  and  1  confess  I  began  to  grow  more  and 
more  augry. 

One  of  the  waiters  arose,  came  up  to  the  little  man, 
and,  regarding  the  top  of  his  head,  began  to  smile. 
I  was  already  full  of  wrath  against  the  inmates  of  the 
hotel,  and  had  not  yet  had  a  chance  to  pour  it  out  on 
any  one ;  and  now  I  confess  I  was  in  the  highest  de- 
gree irritated  by  this  audience  of  waiters. 

The  porter,  not  removing  his  hat,  came  into  the 
room,  and  sat  down  near  me,  leaning  his  elbows  on 
the  table.  This  last  circumstance,  which  was  so  insult- 
ing to  my  dignity  or  mj7  vainglory,  completely  enraged 
me,  and  gave  an  outlet  for  all  the  wrath  which  all  the 
evening  long  had  been  boiling  within  me.  I  asked 
myself  why  he  had  so  humbly  bowed  when  he  had  met 
me  before,  and  now,  because  I  was  sitting  with  the 
travelling  minstrel,  he  came  and  took  his  place  near 
me  so  rudely?  I  was  entirely  overmastered  by  that 
boiling,  angry  indignation  which  I  enjoy  in  myself, 
which  I  sometimes  endeavor  to  stimulate  when  it  comes 
over  me,  because  it  has  an  exhilarating  effect  upon 
me,  and  gives  me,  if  only  for  a  short  time,  a  certain 
extraordinary  flexibility,  energy,  and  strength  in  all 
my  physical  and  moral  faculties. 

I  leaped  to  my  feet. 

44  Whom  are  you  laughing  at?"  I  screamed  at  the 
waiter;  and  I  felt  my  face  turn  pale,  and  my  lips 
involuntarily  set  together. 

44 1  am  not  laughing,"  replied  the  waiter,  moving 
away  from  me. 


LUCERNE.  Ill 

"  Yes,  yon  are  :  you  are  laughing  at  this  gentleman. 
And  what  right  have  you  to  come,  and  to  take  a  seat 
here,  when  there  are  guests?  Don't  you  dare  to  sit 
down ! ' ' 

The  porter,  muttering  something,  got  up,  and  turned 
to  the  door. 

"  What  right  have  you  to  make  sport  of  this  gentle- 
man, and  to  sit  down  by  him,  when  he  is  a  guest,  and 
you  are  a  waiter?  Why  didn't  you  laugh  at  me  this 
evening  at  dinner,  and  come  and  sit  down  beside  me? 
Because  he  is  meanly  dressed,  and  sings  in  the  streets? 
Is  that  the  reason  ?  and  because  I  have  better  clothes  ? 
He  is  poor,  but  he  is  a  thousand  times  better  than  you 
are ;  that  I  am  sure  of,  because  he  has  never  insulted 
any  one,  but  you  have  insulted  him." 

"  I  didn't  mean  any  thing,"  replied  my  enemy  the 
waiter.     tk  Perhaps  I  disturbed  him  by  sitting  down." 

The  waiter  did  uot  understand  me,  and  my  German 
was  wasted  on  him.  The  rude  porter  was  about  to 
take  the  waiter's  part ;  but  I  fell  upon  him  so  impetu- 
ously that  the  porter  pretended  not  to  understand  me, 
and  waved  his  hand. 

The  hunch-backed  dish-washer,  either  because  she 
perceived  my  wrathful  state,  and  feared  a  scandal,  or 
possibly  because  she  shared  my  views,  took  my  part, 
and,  trying  to  force  her  way  between  me  and  the 
porter,  told  him  to  hold  his  tongue,  saying  that  I  was 
right,  but  at  the  same  time  urging  me  to  calm  myself. 

14  Der  Herr  hat  Recht  ;  Sie  haben  Mecki,"  she  said 
over  and  over  again.  The  minstrel's  face  presented  a 
most  pitiable,  terrified  expression  ;  and  evidently  he 
did  not  understand  why  I  was  angry,  and  what  I 
wanted :  and  he  urged  me  to  let  him  go  away  as  soon 
as  possible. 


112  LUC  ERSE. 

But  the  eloquence  of  wrath  burned  within  me  more 
and  more.  I  understood  it  all, — the  throng  that  had 
made  merry  at  his  expense,  and  his  auditors  who  had 
not  given  him  any  thing ;  and  not  for  all  the  world 
would  I  have  held  my  peace. 

I  believe,  that,  if  the  waiters  and  the  porter  had  not 
been  so  submissive,  I  should  have  taken  delight  In 
having  a  brush  with  them,  or  striking  the  defenceless 
English  lady  on  the  head  with  a  stick.  If  at  that 
moment  I  had  been  at  Sevastopol,  I  should  have  taken 
delight  in  devoting  myself  to  slaughtering  and  killing 
in  the  English  trench. 

"  And  why  did  you  take  this  gentleman  and  me  into 
this  room,  and  not  into  the  other?  What?"  I  thun- 
dered at  the  porter,  seizing  him  by  the  arm  so  that  he 
could  not  escape  from  me.  "  What  right  had  you  to 
judge  hy  his  appearance  that  this  gentleman  must  be 
served  in  this  room,  and  not  in  that?  Have  not  all 
guests  who  pay,  equal  rights  in  hotels  ?  Not  only  in  a 
republic,  but  in  all  the  world  !  Your  scurvy  republic  ! 
.  .  .  Equality,  indeed !  You  would  not  dare  to  take 
an  Englishman  into  this  room,  not  even  those  English- 
men who  have  heard  this  gentleman  free  of  cost ;  that 
is,  who  have  stolen  from  him,  each  one  of  them,  the 
few  centimes  which  ought  to  have  been  given  to  him. 
How  did  you  dare  to  take  us  to  this  room?  " 

"That  room  is  closed,"  said  the  porter. 

"  No,"  I  cried,  "  that  isn't  true  ;  it  isn't  closed." 

"  Then  you  know  best." 

11 1  know,  —  I  know  that  you  are  lying." 

The  porter  turned  his  back  on  me. 

"  Eh  !     What  is  to  be  said?  "  he  muttered. 

"What  is  to  be  said?  "  I  cried.  "  You  conduct  us 
instanter  into  that  room  !  " 


LUCERNE.  113 

In  spite  of  the  dish-washer's  warning,  and  the  en- 
treaties of  the  minstrel,  who  would  have  preferred  to 
go  home,  I  insisted  on  seeing  the  head  waiter,  and 
went  with  my  guest  into  the  big  dining-room.  The 
head  waiter,  hearing  my  angry  voice,  and  seeing  my 
menacing  face,  avoided  a  quarrel,  and,  with  contemptu- 
ous servility,  said  that  I  might  go  wherever  I  pleased. 
I  could  not  prove  to  the  porter  that  he  had  lied,  because 
he  had  hastened  out  of  sight  before  I  went  into  the 
hall. 

The  dining-room  was,  in  fact,  open  and  lighted  ;  and 
at  one  of  the  tables  sat  an  Englishman  and  a  lady, 
eating  their  supper.  Although  we  were  shown  to  a 
special  table,  I  took  the  dirty  minstrel  to  the  very  one 
where  the  Englishman  was,  and  bade  the  waiter  bring 
to  us  there  the  unfinished  bottle. 

The  two  guests  at  first  looked  with  surprised,  then 
with  angry,  eyes  at  the  little  man,  who,  more  dead  than 
alive,  was  sitting  near  me.  They  talked  together  in  a 
low  tone ;  then  the  lady  pushed  back  her  plate,  her 
silk  dress  rustled,  and  both  of  them  left  the  room. 
Through  the  glass  doors  I  saw  the  Englishman  saying 
something  in  an  angry  voice  to  the  waiter,  and  pointing 
with  his  hand  in  our  direction.  The  waiter  put  his 
head  through  the  door,  and  looked  at  us.  I  waited 
with  pleasurable  anticipation  for  some  one  to  come 
and  order  us  out,  for  then  I  could  have  found  a  full 
outlet  for  all  my  indignation.  But  fortunately,  though 
at  the  time  I  felt  injured,  we  were  left  in  peace.  The 
minstrel,  who  before  had  fought  sh}r  of  the  wine,  now 
eagerly  drank  all  that  was  left  in  the  bottle,  so  that 
he  might  make  his  escape  as  quickly  as  possible. 

He,  however,  expressed  his  gratitude  with  deep  feel- 
ing, as  it  seemed  to  me,  for  his  entertainment.     His 


J 14  LUCERNE. 

teary  eyes  grew  still  more  humid  and  brilliant,  and  he 
made  use  of  a  most  strange  and  complicated  phrase  of 
gratitude.  But  still  very  pleasant  to  me  was  the  sen- 
tence in  which  he  said  that  if  everybody  treated  artists 
as  I  had  been  doing,  it  would  be  very  good,  and  ended 
by  wishing  me  all  manner  of  happiness.  We  went 
out  into  the  hall  together.  There  stood  the  servants, 
.ud  my  enemy  the  porter  apparently  airing  his  griev- 
ances against  me  before  them.  All  of  them,  I  thought, 
looked  at  me  as  though  I  were  a  man  who  had  lost  his 
wits.  I  treated  the  little  man  exactly  like  an  equal, 
before  all  that  audience  of  servants  ;  and  then,  with  all 
the  respect  that  I  was  able  to  express  in  my  behavior, 
I  took  off  my  hat,  and  pressed  his  hand  with  its  dry 
and  hardened  fingers. 

The  servants  made  believe  not  pay  the  slightest 
attention  to  me.  One  of  them  only  indulged  in  a 
sarcastic  laugh. 

As  soon  as  the  minstrel  had  bowed  himself  out,  and 
disappeared  in  the  darkness,  I  went  up-stairs  to  my 
room,  intending  to  sleep  off  all  these  impressions  and 
the  foolish  childish  anger  which  had  come  upon  me  so 
unexpectedly.  But  finding  that  I  was  too  much  ex- 
cited to  sleep,  I  once  more  went  down  into  the  street 
with  the  intention  of  walking  until  I  should  have  re- 
covered my  equanimity,  and,  I  must  confess,  with  the 
secret  hope  that  I  might  accidentally  come  across  the 
porter  or  the  waiter  or  the  Englishman,  and  show  them 
all  their  rudeness,  and,  most  of  all,  their  unfairness. 
But  beyond  the  porter,  who  when  he  saw  me  turned  his 
back,  I  met  no  one ;  and  I  began  to  promenade  in 
absolute  solitude  along  the  quay. 

"  This  is  an  example  of  the  strange  fate  of  poetry," 
said  I  to  myself,  having  grown  a  little  calmer.     "  All 


LUCERNE.  115 

love  it,  all  are  in  search  of  it ;  it  is  the  only  thing 
in  life  that  men  love  and  seek,  and  yet  no  one  recog- 
nizes its  power,  no  one  prizes  this  best  treasure  of  the 
world,  and  those  who  give  it  to  men  are  not  rewarded. 
Ask  any  one  jtou  please,  ask  all  these  guests  of  the 
Schweitzerhof,  what  is  the  most  precious  treasure  in 
the  world,  and  all,  or  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred, 
putting  on  a  sardonic  expression,  will  say  that  the,! 
best  thing  in  the  world  is  money. 

"  '  Maybe,  though,  this  does  not  please  you,  or  coin- 
cide with  your  elevated  ideas,'  it  will  be  urged,  'but 
what  is  to  be  done  if  human  life  is  so  constituted  that 
money  alone  is  capable  of  giving  a  man  happiness? 
I  cannot  force  my  mind  not  to  see  the  world  as  it  is,' 
it  will  be  added,  '  that  is,  to  see  the  truth.' 

"Pitiable  is  your  intellect,  pitiable  the  happiness 
which  you  desire  !  And  you  yourselves,  unhappy  crea- 
tures, not  knowing  what  you  desire,  .  .  .  why  have 
you  all  left  your  fatherland,  your  relatives,  your 
money-making  trades  and  occupations,  and  come  to 
this  little  Swiss  city  of  Lucerne?  Why  did  you  all 
this  evening  gather  on  the  balconies,  and  in  respectful 
silence  listen  to  the  little  beggar's  song?  And  if  he 
had  been  willing  to  sing  longer,  you  would  have  been 
silent  and  listened  longer.  What !  could  money,  even 
millions  of  it,  have  driven  you  all  from  your  country, 
and  brought  jtou  all  together  in  this  little  nook  of 
Lucerne?  Could  money  have  gathered  you  all  on  the 
balconies  to  stand  for  half  an  hour  silent  and  motion- 
less? No!  One  thing  compels  you  to  do  it,  and  willj 
forever  have  a  stronger  influence  than  all  the  other  im- 
pulses  of  life :  the  longing  for  poetiy  which  you  knowy 
which  you  do  not  realize,  but  feel,  always  will  feel  so 
long  as  you  have  any  human  sensibilities.     The  word 


116  LUCERNE. 

-  \  ■  vtry '  is  a  mockery  to  you  ;  you  make  use  of  it  as 
a  sort  of  ridiculous  reproach  ;  you  regard  the  love  for 
poetry  as  something  meet  for  children  and  silly  girls, 
and  you  make  sport  of  them  for  it.  For  yourselves 
you  must  have  something  more  definite. 

"  But  children  look  upon  life  in  a  healthy  way  :  they 
recognize  and  love  what  man  ought  to  love,  and  what 
gives  happiness.  But  life  has  so  deceived  and  per- 
verted you,  that  you  ridicule  the  only  thing  that  you 
really  love,  and  you  seek  for  what  you  hate  and  for 
what  gives  you  unhappiness. 

"  You  are  so  perverted  that  3'ou  did  not  perceive  what 
obligations  you  were  under  to  the  poor  T3'iolese  who 
rendered  you  a  pure  delight ;  but  at  the  same  time  you 
feel  yourselves  needlessly  obliged  to  bow  before  some 
lord,  which  gives  you  neither  pleasure  nor  profit,  but 
rather  causes  you  to  sacrifice  your  comfort  and  con- 
venience. What  absurdity !  what  incomprehensible 
lack  of  reason ! 

"  But  it  was  not  this  that  made  the  most  powerful 
impression  upon  me  this  evening.  This  blindness  to  all 
that  gives  happiness,  this  unconsciousness  of  poetic 
enjoyment,  I  can  almost  comprehend,  or  at  least  I 
have  become  wonted  to  it,  since  I  have  almost  everj7- 
where  met  with  it  in  the  course  of  my  life ;  the  harsh, 
unconscious  churlishness  of  the  crowd  was  no  novelty 
to  me :  whatever  those  who  argue  in  favor  of  popular 
sentiment  may  say,  the  throng  is  a  conglomeration  of 
very  possibly  good  people,  but  of  people  who  touch 
each  other  only  on  their  coarse  animal  sides,  and  ex- 
press only  the  weakness  and  harshness  of  human 
.  nature.  But  how  was  it  that  you,  children  of  a 
humane  people,  you  Christians,  you  simple  people, 
j  repaid  with  coldness  and  ridicule  the  poor  beggar  who 


LUCERNE.  117 

gave  you  a  pure  enjoyment?    But  no,  in  your  country 
there  are  asylums  for  beggars.     There  are  no  beggars, 
there  can  be  none ;  and  there  can  be  no  feelings  of 
sympathy,  since  that  would  be  a  confession  that  beggary 
existed. 

"  But  he  labored,  he  gave  you  enjoyment,  he  be- 
sought you  to  give  him  something  of  your  superfluity 
in  payment  for  his  labor  of  which  you  took  advantage. 
But  you  looked  upon  him  with  a  cool  smile  as  upon 
one  of  the  curiosities  in  your  lofty  brilliant  palaces ; 
and  though  there  were  a  hundred  of  you,  favored  with 
happiness  and  wealth,  not  one  man  or  one  woman 
among  you  gave  him  a  sou.  Abashed  he  went  away 
from  you,  and  the  thoughtless  throng,  laughing,  fol- 
lowed and  ridiculed  not  you,  but  him,  because  you  were 
cold,  harsh,  and  dishonorable ;  because  you  robbed  him 
in  receiving  the  entertainment  which  he  gave  you :  for 
this  they  jeered  him. 

"  '  On  the  19th  of  July,  1857,  before  the  Schweitzer- 
hof  Hotel,  in  which  were  lodging  very  opulent  people, 
a  wandering  beggar  minstrel  sang  for  half  an  hour  his 
songs,  and  played  his  guitar.  About  a  hundred  people 
listened  to  him.  The  minstrel  thrice  asked  you  all  to 
give  him  something.  No  one  person  gave  him  a  thing, 
and  many  made  sport  of  him.* 

"This  is  not  an  invention,  but  an  actual  fact,  as 
tiiose  who  desire  can  find  out  for  themselves  by  con- 
sulting the  papers  for  the  list  of  those  who  were  at  the 
Schweitzerhof  on  the  19th  of  July. 

"  This  is  an  event  which  the  historians  of  our  time 
ought  to  describe  in  letters  of  inextinguishable  flame. 
This  event  is  more  significant  and  more  serious,  and 
fraught  with  far  deeper  meaning,  than  the  facts  that 
are  printed   in   newspapers   and  histories.     That  the 


118   •  LUCERNE. 

English  have  killed  several  thousand  Chinese  because 
the  Chinese  would  not  sell  them  any  thing  for  money 
while  their  land  is  overflowing  with  ringing  coins  ;  that 
the  French  have  killed  several  thousand  Kabyles  be- 
cause the  wheat  grows  well  in  Africa,  and  because 
constant  war  is  essential  for  the  drill  of  an  army  ;  that 
the  Turkish  ambassador  in  Naples  must  not  be  a  Jew ; 
and  that  the  Emperor  Napoleon  walks  about  in  Plom- 
■rieres,  and  gives  his  people  the  express  assurance  that 
le  rules  only  in  direct  accordance  with  the  will  of  the 
people,  —  all  these  are  words  which  darken  or  reveal 
something  long  known.  But  the  episode  that  took 
place  in  Lucerne  on  the  19th  of  July  seems  to  me 
something  entirely  novel  and  strange,  and  it  is  con- 
nected not  with  the  everlastingly  ugly  side  of  human 
nature,  but  with  a  well-known  epoch  in  the  development 
of  society.  This  fact  is  not  for  the  history  of  human 
activities,  but  for  the  history  of  progress  and  civilization. 
"Why  is  it  that  this  inhuman  fact,  impossible  in  any 
country,  —  Germany,  France,  or  Italy,  —  is  quite  pos- 
sible here  where  civilization,  freedom,  and  equality  are 
carried  to  the  highest  degree  of  development,  where 
there  are  gathered  together  the  most  civilized  travellers 
from  the  most  civilized  nations?  Why  is  it  that  these 
cultivated  human  beings,  generally  capable  of  every 
honorable  human  action,  had  no  hearty,  human  feeling 
for  one  good  deed  ?  Wiry  is  it  that  these  people  who  in 
their  palaces,  their  meetings,  and  their  societies,  labor 
warmly  for  the  condition  of  the  celibate  Chinese  in 
India,  about  the  spread  of  Christianity  and  culture 
in  Africa,  about  the  formation  of  societies  for  attain- 
ing all  perfection,  — why  is  it  that  they  should  not  find 
in  their  souls  the  simple,  primitive  feeling  of  human 
sympathy?    Has  such  a  feeling  entirely  disappeared, 


LUCERNE.  119 

and  has  its  place  been  taken  by  vainglory,  ambition, 
and  cupidity,  governing  these  men  in  their  palaces, 
meetings,  and  societies?  Has  the  spreading  of  that 
reasonable,  egotistical  association  of  people,  which  we 
call  civilization,  destroyed  and  rendered  nugatory  the 
desire  for  instinctive  and  loving  association  ?  And  is 
this  that  boasted  equality  for  which  so  much  innocent 
blood  has  been  shed,  and  so  many  crimes  have  been 
perpetrated?  Is  it  possible  that  nations,  like  children^ 
can  be  made  happy  by  the  mere  sound  of  the  word} 
4  equality '  ? 

' '  Equality  before  the  law  ?  Does  the  whole  life  of  a 
people  revolve  within  the  sphere  of  law?  Only  the 
thousandth  part  of  it  is  subject  to  the  law :  the  rest 
lies  outside  of  it,  in  the  sphere  of  the  customs  and 
intuitions  of  society. 

"  But  in  society  the  lackey  is  better  dressed  than  the 
minstrel,  and  insults  him  with  impunity.  I  am  better 
dressed  than  the  lackey,  and  insult  him  with  impunity. 
The  porter  considers  me  higher,  but  the  minstrel  lower, 
than  himself ;  when  I  made  the  minstrel  my  compan- 
ion, lie  felt  that  he  was  on  an  equality  with  us  both,  and 
behaved  rudely.  I  was  impudent  to  the  porter,  and  the 
porter  acknowledged  that  he  was  inferior  to  me.  The 
waiter  was  impudent  to  the  minstrel,  and  the  minstrel 
accepted  the  fact  that  he  was  inferior  to  the  waiter. 

"And  is  that  government  free,  even  though  men  seri- 
ously call  it  free,  wmere  a  single  citizen  can  be  thrown 
into  prison  because,  without  harming  any  one,  with- 
out interfering  with  any  one,  he  does  the  only  thing 
that  he  can  to  prevent  himself  from  dying  of  starva- 
tion ? 

"A  wretched,  pitiable  creature  is  man  with  his  crav- 
ing for  positive  solutions,  thrown  into  this  everlastingly 


120  LUCERNE. 

tossing,  limitless  ocean  of  good  and  evil,  of  combina- 
tions and  contradictions.  For  centuries  men  have 
been  struggling  and  laboring  to  put  the  good  on  one 
side,  the  evil  on  the  other.  Centuries  will  pass,  and  no 
matter  how  much  the  unprejudiced  mind  may  strive  to 
decide  where  the  balance  lies  between  the  good  and  the 
evil,  tlie  scales  will  refuse  to  tip  the  beam,  and  there 
will  always  be  equal  quantities  of  the  good  and  the  evil 
on  each  scale. 

"  If  only  man  would  learn  to  form  judgments,  and 
not  to  indulge  in  rash  and  arbitrary  thoughts,  and  not 
to  make  reply  to  questions  that  are  propounded  merely 
to  remain  forever  unanswered  !  If  only  he  would  learn 
'that  every  thought  is  both  a  lie  and  a  truth!  —  a  lie 
from  the  one-sidedness  and  inability  of  man  to  recog- 
nize all  truth ;  and  true  because  it  expresses  one  side 
of  mortal  endeavor.  There  are  divisions  in  this  ever- 
lastingly tumultuous,  endless,  endlessly  confused  chaos 
of  the  good  and  the  evil.  They  have  drawn  imaginary 
lines  over  this  ocean,  and  the}T  contend  that  the  ocean 
is  really  thus  divided. 

"  But  are  there  not  millions  of  other  possible  subdi- 
visions from  absolutely  different  standpoints,  in  other 
planes?  Certainly  these  novel  subdivisions  will  be 
made  in  centuries  to  come,  just  as  millions  of  different 
ones  have  been  made  in  centuries  past. 

"  Civilization  is  good,  barbarism  is  evil;  freedom, 
good;  slavery,  evil.  Now,  this  imaginary  knowledge 
annihilates  the  instinctive,  beatific,  primitive  craving 
for  the  good  that  is  in  human  nature.  And  who  will 
explain  to  me  what  is  freedom,  what  is  despotism, 
what  is  civilization,  what  is  barbarism? 

"Where  are  the  boundaries  that  separate  them? 
And  whose  soul  possesses  so  absolute  a  standard  of 


LUCERNE.  121 

good  and  evil  as  to  measure  these  fleeting,  complicated 
facts  ?  Whose  wit  is  so  great  as  to  comprehend  and 
weigh  all  the  facts  in  the  irretrievable  past?  And  who 
can  find  any  circumstance  in  which  there  is  no  union 
of  good  and  evil?  And  because  I  know  that  I  see  more 
of  one  than  of  the  other,  is  it  not  because  my  stand- 
point is  wrong  ?  And  who  has  the  ability  to  separate 
himself  so  absolutely  from  life,  even  for  a  moment,  as 
to  look  upon  it  from  above  ?      • 

"  One,  only  one  infallible  Guide  we  have,  —  the  uni- 
versal Spirit  which  penetrates  all  collectively  and  as 
units,  which  has  endowed  each  of  us  with  the  craving 
for  the  right ;  the  Spirit  which  impels  the  tree  to  grow 
toward  the  sun,  which  stimulates  the  flower  in  autumn- 
tide  to  scatter  its  seed,  and  which  obliges  each  one  of 
us  unconsciously  to  draw  closer  together.  And  this 
one  unerring,  inspiring  voice  rings  out  louder  than  the 
noisy,  hasty  development  of  culture. 

"  Who  is  the  greater  man,  and  who  the  greater  bar- 
barian,—  that  lord,  who,  seeing  the  minstrel's  well- 
worn  clothes,  angrily  left  the  table,  who  gave  him  not 
the  millionth  part  of  his  possessions  in  payment  of  his 
labor,  and  now  lazily  sitting  in  his  brilliant,  comforta- 
ble room,  calmly  opines  about  the  events  that  are  hap- 
pening in  China,  and  justifies  the  massacres  that  have 
been  done  there ;  or  the  little  minstrel,  who,  risking 
imprisonment,  with  a  franc  in  his  pocket,  and  doing 
no  harm  to  any  one,  has  been  going  about  for  a  score 
of  years,  up  hill  and  down  dale,  rejoicing  men's  hearts 
with  his  songs,  though  they  have  jeered  at  him,  and 
almost  cast  him  out  of  the  pale  of  humanity  ;  and  who, 
in  weariness  and  cold  and  shame,  has  gone  off  to  sleep, 
no  one  knows  where,  on  his  filthy  straw?" 

At   this  moment,  from   the  city,   through  the  dead 


122  LUCERNE. 

silence  of  the  night,  far,  far  away,  I  caught  the  sound 
of  the  little  man's  guitar  and  his  voice. 

41  No,"  something  involuntarily  said  to  me,  "you 
have  no  right  to  commiserate  the  little  man,  or  to 
blame  the  lord  for  his  well-being.  Who  can  weigh  the 
inner  happiness  which  is  found  in  the  soul  of  each  of 
these  men  ?  There  he  stands  somewhere  in  the  muddy 
road,  and  gazes  at  the  brilliant  moonlit  sky,  and  gayly 
sings  amid  the  smiling,  fragrant  night ;  in  his  soul 
there  is  no  reproach,  no  anger,  no  regret.  And  who 
knows  what  is  transpiring  now  in  the  hearts  of  all 
these  men  within  those  opulent,  brilliant  rooms?  Who 
knows  if  they  all  have  as  much  unencumbered,  sweet 
delight  in  life,  and  as  much  satisfaction  with  the  world, 
as  dwells  in  the  soul  of  that  little  man? 

u  Endless  are  the  mercy  and  wisdom  of  Him  who  has 
permitted  and  formed  all  these  contradictions.  Only 
to  thee,  miserable  little  worm  of  the  dust,  audaciously, 
lawlessly  attempting  to  fathom  His  laws,  His  designs, 
—  only  to  thee  do  they  seem  like  contradictions. 

' '  Full  of  love  He  looks  down  from  His  bright,  im- 
measurable height,  and  rejoices  in  the  endless  harmony 
in  which  you  all  move  in  endless  contradictions.  In 
thy  pride  thou  hast  thought  thyself  able  to  separate 
thyself  from  the  laws  of  the  universe.  No,  thou  also, 
with  thy  petty,  ridiculous  anger  against  the  waiters,  — 
thou  also  hast  disturbed  the  harmonious  craving  for 
the  eternal  and  the  infinite. "  .  .  . 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

A  STORY. 


Well,  it  happened  about  three  o'clock.  The  gen- 
tlemen were  playing.  There  was  the  big  stranger,  as 
our  men  called  him.  The  prince  was  there,  —  the 
two  are  always  together.  The  whiskered  barin  was 
there ;  also  the  little  hussar,  Oliver,  who  was  an  actor, 
and  there  was  the  pan.1    It  was  a  pretty  good  crowd. 

The  big  stranger  and  the  prince  were  playing  to- 
gether. Now,  here  I  was  walking  up  and  down  around 
the  billiard-table  with  my  stick,  keeping  tally,  —  ten 
and  forty-seven,  twelve  and  forty-seven. 

Everybody  knows  it's  our  business  to  score.  You 
don't  get  a  ohance  to  get  a  bite  of  any  thing,  and 
you  don't  get  to  bed  till  two  o'clock  o'  nights,  but 
you're  always  being  screamed  at  to  bring  the  balls. 

I  was  keeping  tally  ;  and  I  look,  and  see  a  new  barin 
comes  in  at  the  door.  He  gazed  and  gazed,  and  then 
sat  down  on  the  sofa.     Very  well ! 

"Now,  who  can  that  be?"  thinks  I  to  myself. 
"He  must  be  somebody." 

His  dress  was  neat,  —  neat  as  a  pin,  —  checkered 
tricot  pants,  stylish  little  short  coat,  plush  vest,  and 
gold  chain  and  all  sorts  of  trinkets  dangling  from  it. 

1  Polish  name  for  lord  or  gentleman. 
123 


124  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

He  was  dressed  neat ;  but  there  was  something 
about  the  man  neater  still ;  slim,  tall,  his  hair  brushed 
forward  in  style,  and  his  face  fair  and  ruddy,  —  well, 
in  a  word,  a  fine  young  fellow. 

You  must  know  our  business  brings  us  into  contact 
with  all  sorts  of  people.  And  there's  many  that  ain't 
of  much  consequence,  and  there's  a  good  deal  of  poor 
trash.  So,  though  you're  only  a  scorer,  you  get  used 
to  telling  folks ;  that  is,  in  a  certain  way  you  learn  a 
thing  or  two. 

I  looked  at  the  barin.  I  see  him  sit  down,  modest 
and  quiet,  not  knowing  anybody ;  and  the  clothes  on 
him  are  so  bran-new,  that  thinks  I,  "  Either  he's  a 
foreigner,  —  an  Englishman  maybe, — or  some  count 
just  come.  And  though  he's  so  young,  he  has  an  air 
of  some  distinction."  Oliver  sat  down  next  him,  so 
he  moved  along  a  little. 

They  began  a  game.  The  big  man  lost.  He 
shouts  to  me.  Says  he,  "  You're  always  cheating. 
You  don't  count  straight.  Why  don't  you  pay  atten- 
tion ?" 

He  scolded  away,  then  threw  down  his  cue,  and  went 
out.  Now,  just  look  here !  Evenings,  he  and  the 
prince  plays  for  fifty  silver  rubles  a  game ;  and  here 
he  only  lost  a  bottle  of  Makon  wine,  and  got  mad. 
That's  the  kind  of  a  character  he  is. 

Another  time  he  and  the  prince  plays  till  two  o'clock. 
They  don't  bank  down  any  cash ;  and  so  I  know 
neither  of  them's  got  any  cash,  but  they  are  simply 
playing  a  bluff  game. 

44  I'll  go  you  twenty-five  rubles,"  says  he. 

''All  right." 

Just  yawning,  and  not  even  stopping  to  place  the 
ball,  —  you  see,  he  was  not  made  of  stone,  —  now  just 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  125 

notice  what  he  said.  "We  are  playing  for  money," 
says  he,  "  and  not  for  chips." 

But  this  man  puzzled  me  worse  than  all  the  rest. 
Well,  then,  when  the  big  man  left,  the  prince  says 
to  the  new  barin,  "Wouldn't  you  like,"  says  he,  "to 
play  a  game  with  me?  " 

"With  pleasure,"  says  he. 

He  sat  there,  and  looked  rather  foolish,  indeed  he 
did.  He  may  have  been  courageous  in  reality ;  but, 
at  all  events,  he  got  up,  went  over  to  the  billiard- table, 
and  did  not  seem  flustered  as  yet.  He  was  not  exactly 
flustered,  but  you  couldn't  help  seeing  that  he  was  not 
quite  at  his  ease. 

Either  his  clothes  were  a  little  too  new,  or  he  was 
embarrassed  because  everybody  was  looking  at  him ; 
at  any  rate,  he  seemed  to  have  no  energy.  He  sort  of 
sidled  up  to  the  table,  caught  his  pocket  on  the  edge, 
began  to  chalk  his  cue,  dropped  his  chalk. 

Whenever  he  hit  the  ball,  he  always  glanced  around, 
and  reddened.  Not  so  the  prince.  He  was  used  to  it ; 
he  chalked  and  chalked  his  hand,  tucked  up  his  sleeve  ; 
he  goes  and  sits  down  when  he  pockets  the  ball,  even 
though  he  is  such  a  little  man. 

They  played  two  or  three  games  ;  then  I  notice  the 
prince  puts  up  the  cue,  and  says,  "  Would  you  mind 
telling  me  your  name  ? ' ' 

"  Nekhliudof,"  says  he. 

Says  the  prince,  "  Was  your  father  commander  in 
the  corps  of  cadets?  " 

"  Yes,"  saj's  the  other. 

Then  they  began  to  talk  in  French,  and  I  could  not 
understand  them.  I  suppose  they  were  talking  about 
family  affairs. 

"  Au  revoir"  says  the  prince.     "  I  am  very  glad  to 


126  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

have  made  your  acquaintance."  He  washed  his  hands, 
and  went  to  get  a  lunch ;  but  the  other  stood  by  the 
billiard-table  with  his  cue,  and  was  knocking  the  balls 
about. 

It's  our  business,  you  know,  when  a  new  man 
comes  along,  to  be  rather  sharp :  it's  the  best  way.  I 
took  the  balls,  and  go  to  put  them  up.  He  reddened, 
and  says,  "  Can't  I  play  any  longer?  " 

"Certainly  you  can,"  says  I.  "  That's  what  bill- 
iards is  for."  But  I  don't  pay  any  attention  to  him. 
I  straighten  the  cues. 

M  Will  you  play  with  me?  " 

"Certainly,  sir,"  says  I. 

I  place  the  balls. 

u  Shall  we  play  for  odds?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  —  '  play  for  odds  '  ?  " 

"Well,"  says  I,  "you  give  me  a  half-ruble,  and  I 
crawl  under  the  table." 

Of  course,  as  he  had  never  seen  that  sort  of  thing, 
it  seemed  strange  to  him :  he  laughs. 

"  Go  ahead,"  says  he. 

"  Very  well,"  says  I,  "  only  you  must  give  me 
odds." 

"  What!  "  saj's  he,  "  are  you  a  worse  player  than 
lam?" 

"  Most  likely,"  says  I.  "  We  have  few  players  who 
can  be  compared  with  you." 

We  began  to  play.  He  certainly  had  the  idea  that 
he  was  a  crack  shot.  It  was  a  caution  to  see  him 
shoot ;  but  the  Pole  sat  there,  and  kept  shouting  out 
every  time,  — 

"  Ah,  what  a  chance  !  ah,  what  a  shot !  " 

But  what  a  man  he  was !  His  ideas  were  good 
enough,  but  he  didn't  know  how  to  carry  them  out. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  127 

Well,  as  usual  I  lost  the  first  game,  crawled  under  the 
table,  and  grunted. 

Thereupon  Oliver  and  the  Pole  jumped  down  from 
their  seats,  and  applauded,  thumping  with  their  cues. 

"Splendid!  Do  it  again,"  they  cried,  "  once 
more." 

Well  enough  to  cry  "once  more,"  especially  for  the 
Pole.  That  fellow  would  have  been  glad  enough  to 
crawl  under  the  billiard- table,  or  even  under  the  Blue 
bridge,  for  a  half -ruble !  Yet  he  was  the  first  to  cry, 
"Splendid!   but  you  haven't  wiped  off  all  the  dust 

yet." 

I,  Petrushka  the  marker,  was  prett}7  well  known  to 
everybody. 

Only,  of  course,  I  did  not  care  to  show  my  hand 
yet.     I  lost  my  second  game. 

"  It  does  not  become  me  at  all  to  play  with  you, 
sir,"  says  I. 

He  laughs.  Then,  as  I  was  playing  the  third  game, 
he  stood  forty-nine  and  I  nothing.  I  laid  the  cue  on 
the  billiard-table,  and  said,  "  Barin,  shall  we  play  off  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean  by  playing  off?"  says  he. 
"  How  would  you  have  it?" 

"  You  make  it  three  rubles  or  nothing,"  says  I. 

"Why,"  says  he,  "have  I  been  playing  with  you 
for  money?"     The  fool ! 

He  turned  rather  red. 

Very  good.  He  lost  the  game.  He  took  out  his 
pocket-book, — quite  a  new  one,  evidently  just  from 
the  English  shop,  —  opened  it:  I  see  he  wanted  to 
make  a  little  splurge.  It  is  stuffed  full  of  bills,  — 
nothing  but  hundred-ruble  notes. 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  there's  no  small  stuff  here." 

He  took  three  rubles   from  his  purse.     "There," 


128  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

says  he,  "  there's  your  two  rubles  ;  the  other  pays  for 
the  games,  and  you  keep  the  rest  for  vodka." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  most  kindly."  I  see  that  he  is  a 
splendid  fellow.  For  such  a  one  I  would  crawl  under 
any  thing.  For  one  thing,  it's  a  pity  that  he  won't 
play  for  money.  For  then,  thinks  I,  I  should  know 
how  to  work  him  for  twenty  rubles,  and  maybe  I  could 
stretch  it  out  to  forty. 

As  soon  as  the  Pole  saw  the  young  man's  money,  he 
says,  "  Wouldn't  you  like  to  try  a  little  game  with  me? 
You  play  so  admirably."     Such  sharpers  prowl  around. 

"No,"  says  the  young  man,  "excuse  me:  I  have 
not  the  time."     And  he  went  out. 

I  don't  know  who  that  man  was,  that  Pole.  Some 
one  called  him  Pan  or  the  Pole,  and  so  it  stuck  to  him. 
Every  day  he  used  to  sit  in  the  billiard-room,  and 
always  look  on.  He  was  no  longer  allowed  to  take  a 
hand  in  any  game  whatever;  but  he  always  sat  by 
himself,  and  got  out  his  pipe,  and  smoked.  But  then 
he  could  play  well. 

Very  good.  Nekhliudof  came  a  second  time,  a  third 
time ;  he  began  to  come  frequently.  He  would  come 
morning  and  evening.  He  learned  to  play  French 
carom  and  pyramid  pool,  —  everything  in  fact.  He 
became  less  bashful,  got  acquainted  with  everybody, 
and  played  tolerably  well.  Of  course,  being  a  young 
man  of  a  good  family,  with  money,  everybody  liked 
him.  The  only  exception  was  the  "big  guest:"  he 
quarrelled  with  him. 

And  the  whole  thing  grew  out  of  a  trifle. 

They  were  playing  pool,  —  the  prince,  the  big 
guest,  Nekhliudof,  Oliver,  and  some  one  else.  Nekh- 
liudof was  standing  near  the  stove  talking  with  some 
one.     When   it   came  the  big  man's  turn  to  play,  it 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  129 

happened  that  his  ball  was  just  opposite  the  stove. 
There  was  very  little  space  there,  and  he  liked  to  have 
elbow-room. 

Now,  either  he  didn't  see  Nekhliudof ,  or  he  did  it  on 
purpose ;  but,  as  he  was  flourishing  his  cue,  he  hit 
Nekhliudof  in  the  chest,  a  tremendous  rap.  It  actually 
made  him  groan.  What  then?  He  did  not  think 
of  apologizing,  he  was  so  boorish.  He  even  went 
further :  he  didn't  look  at  him ;  he  walks  off  grum- 
bling, — 

"Who's  jostling  me  there?  It  made  me  miss  my 
shot.     Why  can't  we  have  some  room?  " 

Then  the  other  went  up  to  him,  pale  as  a  sheet,  but 
quite  self-possessed,  and  says  so  politely, — 

"  You  ought  first,  sir,  to  apologize  :  you  struck  me," 
says  he. 

"Catch  me  apologizing  now!  I  should  have  won 
the  game,"  says  he,  "but  now  you  have  spoiled  it 
for  me." 

Then  the  other  one  says,  "  You  ought  to  apologize." 

"  Get  out  of  my  way  !     I  insist  upon  it,  I  won't." 

And  he  turned  away  to  look  after  his  ball. 

Nekhliudof  went  up  to  him,  and  took  him  by  the 
arm. 

"  You're  a  boor,"  says  he,  "  my  dear  sir." 

Though  he  was  a  slender  young  fellow,  almost  like 
a  girl,  still  he  was  all  ready  for  a  quarrel.  His  ej'es 
flash  fire ;  he  looks  as  if  he  could  eat  him  alive.  The 
big  guest  was  a  strong,  tremendous  fellow,  no  match 
for  Nekhliudof. 

"  Wha-at !"  says  he,  "  you  call  me  a  boor?  "  Yell- 
ing out  these  words,  he  raises  his  hand  to  strike  him. 

Then  everybody  there  rushed  up,  and  seized  them 
both  bj'  the  arms,  and  separated  them. 


130  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

After  much  talk,  Nekhliudof  says,  "  Let  him  give 
me  satisfaction  :  he  has  insulted  me." 

44  Not  at  all,"  said  the  other.  "  I  don't  care  a  whit 
about  any  satisfaction.  He's  nothing  but  a  boy,  a 
mere  nothing.     I'll  pull  his  cars  for  him." 

44  If  you  aren't  willing  to  give  me  satisfaction,  then 
you  are  no  gentleman." 

And,  saying  this,  he  almost  cried. 

14  Well,  and  you,  you  are  a  little  boy :  nothing  you 
say  or  do  can  offend  me." 

Well,  we  separated  them,  —  led  them  off,  as  the 
custom  is,  to  different  rooms.  Nekhliudof  and  the 
prince  were  friends. 

44  Go,"  says  the  former ;  u  for  God's  sake  make  him 
listen  to  reason." 

The  prince  went.  The  big  man  sa3's,  "  I  ain't 
afraid  of  any  one,"  says  he.  "I  am  not  going  to  have 
any  explanation  with  such  a  baby.  I  won't  do  it,  and 
that's  the  end  of  it." 

Well,  they  talked  and  talked,  and  then  the  matter  died 
out,  only  the  big  guest  ceased  to  come  to  us  any  more. 

As  a  result  of  this,  —  this  row,  I  might  call  it, — 
he  was  regarded  as  quite  the  cock  of  the  walk.  He 
was  quick  to  take  offence,  —  I  mean  Nekhliudof,  — 
as  to  so  many  other  things,  however,  he  was  as  unso- 
phisticated as  a  new-born  babe. 

I  remember  once,  the  prince  says  to  Nekhliudof, 
44  Whom  do  }Tou  keep  here?  " 

44  No  one,"  says  he. 

44  What  do  you  mean,  — 4  no  one ' !  " 

44  Why  should  I?"  says  Nekhliudof. 

44  How  so,  — why  should  you?  " 

44 1  have  always  lived  thus.  Why  shouldn't  I  con- 
tinue to  live  the  same  way?  " 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  131 

"  You  don't  say  so?    Did  you  ever !  " 

And  saying  this,  the  prince  burst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter,  and  the  whiskered  barin  also  roared.  They 
couldn't  get  over  it. 

"  What,  never  ?  "  they  asked. 

"Never!" 

They  were  dying  with  laughter.  Of  course  I  under- 
stood well  enough  what  they  were  laughing  at  him  for. 
I  keep  my  eyes  open.  "  What,"  thinks  I,  "  will  come 
of  it?" 

"  Come,"  says  the  prince,  "  come  right  off." 

"  No  ;  not  for  any  thing,"  was  his  answer. 

"  Now,  that  is  absurd,"  says  the  prince.  "Come 
along!  " 

They  went  out. 

They  came  back  at  one  o'clock.  They  sat  down  to 
supper ;  quite  a  crowd  of  them  were  assembled.  Some 
of  our  very  best  customers,  —  Atanof,  Prince  Razin, 
Count  Shustakh,  Mirtsof .  And  all  congratulate  Nekh- 
liudof,  laughing  as  they  do  so.  They  call  me  in:  I 
see  that  they  are  pretty  jolly. 

M  Congratulate  the  barin,"  they  shout. 

"What  on?"  I  ask. 

How  did  he  call  it?  His  initiation  or  his  enlighten- 
ment ;  I  can't  remember  exactly. 

"I  have  the  honor,"  says  I,  "to  congratulate 
you." 

And  he  sits  there  very  red  in  the  face,  yet  he  smiles. 
Didn't  they  have  fun  with  him  though  ! 

Well  and  good.  They  went  afterwards  to  the  bill- 
iard-room, all  very  gay ;  and  Nekhliudof  went  up  to 
the  billiard- table,  leaned  on  his  elbow,  and  said,  — 

"It's  amusing  to  you,  gentlemen,"  says  he,  "but 
it's   sad   for   me.     Why,"    says   he,    "did   I   do   it? 


132  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

Prince,"  says  he,  "I  shall  never  forgive  you  or  myself 
as  long  as  I  live." 

And  he  actually  burst  into  tears.  Evidently  he  did 
not  know  himself  what  he  was  saying.  The  prince 
went  up  to  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense,"  says  he.  "  Let's  go  home, 
Anatoli." 

"I  won't  go  anywhere,"  says  the  other.  u  Why 
did  I  do  that?" 

And  the  tears  poured  down  his  cheeks.  He  would 
not  leave  the  billiard-table,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 
That's  what  it  means  for  a  young  and  inexperienced 
man  to  .  .  . 

In  this  wa}r  he  used  often  to  come  to  us.  Once  he 
came  with  the  prince,  and  the  whiskered  man  who  was 
the  prince's  crony ;  the  gentlemen  always  called  him 
"Fedotka."  He  had  prominent  cheek-bones,  and  was 
homely  enough,  to  be  sure  ;  but  he  used  to  dress  neatly 
and  ride  in  a  carriage.  What  was  the  reason  that  the 
gentlemen  were  so  fond  of  him?  I  really  could  not 
tell. 

"Fedotka!  Fedotka!  "  they'd  call,  and  ask  him  to 
eat  and  to  drink,  and  they'd  spend  their  money  paying 
up  for  him ;  but  he  was  a  thorough-going  beat.  If 
ever  he  lost,  he  would  be  sure  not  to  pay ;  but  if  he 
won,  you  bet  he  wouldn't  fail  to  collect  his  money. 
Often  too  he  came  to  grief :  yet  there  he  was,  walking 
arm  in  arm  with  the  prince. 

"You  are  lost  without  me,"  he  would  say  to  the 
prince.  "  I  am,  Fedot,"  *  says  he  ;  "  but  not  a  Fedot 
of  that  sort." 

And  what  jokes  he  used  to  crack,  to  be  sure  !  Well, 
as  I  said,  they  had  already  arrived  that  time,  and  one 

1  Fedot,  da  nijd  tot,  an  untranslatable  play  on  the  word. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  133 

of  them  says,  "Let's  have  the  balls  for  three-handed 
pool." 

14  All  right,"  says  the  other. 

They  began  to  play  at  three  rubles  a  stake.  Nekh- 
liuclof  and  the  prince  play,  and  chat  about  all  sorts  of 
things  meantime. 

44  Ah  !  "  says  one  of  them,  "  you  mind  only  what  a 
neat  little  foot  she  has." 

"Oh,"  says  the  other,  "her  foot  is  nothing;  her 
beauty  is  her  wealth  of  hair." 

Of  course  they  paid  no  attention  to  the  game,  only 
kept  on  talking  to  one  another. 

As  to  Fedotka,  that  fellow  was  alive  to  his  work  ;  he 
played  his  very  best,  but  they  didn't  do  themselves 
justice  at  all. 

And  so  he  won  six  rubles  from  each  of  them.  God 
knows  how  many  games  he  had  won  from  the  prince, 
yet  I  never  knew  them  to  pay  each  other  any  money ; 
but  Nekhliudof  took  out  two  greenbacks,  and  handed 
them  over  to  him. 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  I  don't  want  to  take  your  money. 
Let's  square  it:  play  'quits  or  double,'1 — either 
double  or  nothing." 

I  set  the  balls.  Fedotka  began  to  play  the  first^ 
hand.  Nekhliudof  seemed  to  play  only  for  fun  :  some- 
times he  would  come  very  near  winning  a  game,  yet 
just  fail  of  it.  Says  he,  "It  would  be  too  easy  a 
move,  I  won't  have  it  so."  But  Fedotka  did  not  for- 
get what  he  was  up  to.  Carelessly  he  proceeded  with 
the  game,  and  thus,  as  if  it  were  unexpectedly,  won. 

"  Let  us  play  double  stakes  once  more,"  says  he. 

44  All  right,"  says  Nekhliudof. 

Once  more  Fedotka  won  the  game. 

1  Kitudubl  —  Fr.  quitte  ou  double. 


134  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

"  Well,"  says  he,  "  it  began  with  a  mere  trifle.  I 
don't  wish  to  win  much  from  you.  Shall  we  make  it 
once  more  or  nothing?  " 

"Yes." 

Say  what  you  may,  but  fifty  rubles  is  a  pretty  sum, 
and  Nekhliudof  himself  began  to  propose,  "  Let  us  make 
it  double  or  quit."     So  they  played  and  played. 

It  kept  going  worse  and  worse  for  Nekhliudof. 
Two  hundred  and  eighty  rubles  were  written  up  against 
him.  As  to  Fedotka,  he  had  his  own  method:  he 
would  lose  a  simple  game,  but  when  the  stake  was 
doubled,  he  would  win  sure. 

As  for  the  prince,  he  sits  by  and  looks  on.  He  sees 
that  the  matter  is  growing  serious. 

"  Enough  !  "  *  says  he,  "  hold  on." 

My  !  they  keep  increasing  the  stake. 

At  last  it  went  so  far  that  Nekhliudof  was  in  for 
more  than  five  hundred  rubles.  Fedotka  laid  down  his 
cue,  and  said,  — 

"  Aren't  you  satisfied  for  to-day  ?  I'm  tired,"  says  he. 

Yet  I  knew  he  was  ready  to  play  till  dawn  of  day, 
provided  there  was  money  to  be  won.  Stratagem,  of 
course.  And  the  other  was  all  the  more  anxious  to  go 
on.     "  Come  on  !     Come  on  !  " 

"No,  —  'pon  my  honor,  I'm  tired.  Come,"  says 
Fedot ;  "  let's  go  up-stairs  ;  there  you  shall  have  your 
revanche." 

Up-stairs  with  us  meant  the  place  where  the  gentle- 
men used  to  play  cards.  From  that  very  day,  Fedotka 
wound  his  net  round  him  so  that  he  began  to  come 
every  day.  He  would  play  one  or  two  games  of 
billiards,  and  then  proceed  up-stairs,  —  every  day 
up-stairs. 

1  as6=aH8ez. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  SCORER.  135 

What  they  used  to  do  there,  God  only  knows  ;  but  it 
is  a  fact  that  from  that  time  he  began  to  be  an  entirely 
different  kind  of  man,  and  seemed  hand  in  glove  with 
Fedotka.  Formerly  he  used  to  be  stylish,  neat  in  his 
dress,  with  his  hair  slightly  curled  even  ;  but  now  it 
would  be  only  in  the  morning  that  he  would  be  any 
thing  like  himself ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had  paid  his  visit 
up-stairs,  he  would  not  be  at  all  like  himself. 

Once  he  came  down  from  up-stairs  with  the  prince, 
pale,  his  lips  trembling,  and  talking  excitedly. 

"  I  cannot  permit  such  a  one  as  he  is,"  says  he,  "  to 
say  that  I  am  not  V  —  How  did  he  express  himself  ?  I 
cannot  recollect,  something  like  "  not  refined  enough," 
or  what,  —  "and  that  he  won't  play  with  me  any 
more.  I  tell  you  I  have  paid  him  ten  thousand,  and  I 
should  think  that  he  might  be  a  little  more  considerate, 
before  others,  at  least." 

"  Oh,  bother !  "  says  the  prince,  "  is  it  worth  while  to 
lose  one's  temper  with  Fedotka?  " 

"  No,"  says  the  other,  "  I  will  not  let  it  go  so." 

"  Why,  old  fellow,  how  can  you  think  of  such  a 
thing  as  lowering  yourself  to  have  a  row  with 
Fedotka?" 

"That  is  all  very  well;  but  there  were  strangers 
there,  mind  you." 

"Well,  what  of  that?"  says  the  prince;  "stran- 
gers ?  Well,  if  you  wish,  I  will  go  and  make  him  ask 
your  pardon." 

"  No,"  says  the  other. 

And  then  they  began  to  chatter  in  French,  and  I 
could  not  understand  what  it  was  they  were  talking 
about. 

And  what  would  you  think  of  it?  That  very  evening 
he  and  Fedotka  ate  supper  together,  and  they  became 
friends  ayrain. 


136  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

Well  aud  good.  At  other  times  again  he  would 
come  alone. 

"  Well,"  he  would  say,  "  do  I  play  well?  " 

It's  our  business,  you  know,  to  try  to  make  every- 
body contented,  and  so  I  would  say,  "  Yes,  indeed  ;  " 
aud  yet  how  could  it  be  called  good  play,  when  he 
would  poke  about  with  his  cue  without  any  sense  what- 
ever ? 

And  from  that  very  evening  when  he  took  in  with 
Fedotka,  he  began  to  play  for  money  all  the  time. 
Formerly  he  didn't  care  to  play  for  stakes,  either  for  a 
dinner  or  for  champagne.  Sometimes  the  prince  would 
say,— 

M  Let's  play  for  a  bottle  of  champagne." 

11  No,"  he  would  say.  "  Let  us  rather  have  the  wine 
by  itself.     Hollo  there  !  briug  a  bottle  !  " 

And  now  he  began  to  play  for  money  all  the  time ; 
he  used  to  spend  his  entire  days  in  our  establishment. 
He  would  either  play  with  some  one  in  the  billiard- 
room,  or  he  would  go  "  up-stairs." 

Well,  thinks  I  to  myself,  every  one  else  gets  some- 
thing from  him,  why  don't  I  get  some  advantage  out 
of  it? 

"  Well,  sir,"  says  I  one  day,  "  it's  a  long  time  since 
you  have  had  a  game  with  me." 

And  so  we  began  to  play.  Well,  when  I  won  ten 
half-rubles  of  him,  I  says,  — 

"  Don't  you  want  to  make  it  double  or  quit,  sir?  " 

He  said  nothing.  Formerly,  if  you  remember,  he 
would  call  me  a  fool  for  such  a  boldness.  And  we 
went  to  playing  "  quit  or  double." 

I  won  eight}r  rubles  of  him. 

Well,  what  would  you  think?  Since  that  first  time  he 
used  to  play  with  me  every  day.     He  would  wait  till 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  SCORER.  137 

there  was  no  one  about,  for  of  course  he  would  have 
been  ashamed  to  play  with  a  mere  marker  in  presence 
of  others.  Once  he  had  got  rather  warmed  up  by  the 
play  (he  already  owed  me  sixty  rubles),  and  so  he 
says,  — 

"  Do  you  want  to  stake  all  you  have  won?  " 

4 'All  right,"  says  I. 

I  won.  "One  hundred  and  twenty  to  one  hundred 
and  twenty?" 

"All  right,"  says  I. 

Again  I  won.  "  Two  hundred  and  forty  against  two 
hundred  and  forty?  " 

"  Isn't  that  too  much?  "  I  ask. 
-  He  made  no  reply.     We  played   the  game.     Once 
more  it  was  mine.     "  Four  hundred  and  eighty  against 
four  hundred  and  eighty?  " 

I  says,  "  Well,  sir,  I  don't  want  to  wrong  you.  Let 
us  make  it  a  hundred  rubles  that  you  owe  me,  and  call 
it  square." 

You  ought  to  have  heard  how  he  yelled  at  this,  and 
yet  he  was  not  a  proud  man  at  all.  u  Either  play,  or 
don't  play  !  "  says  he. 

Well,  I  see  there's  nothing  to  be  done.  "  Three 
hundred  and  eighty,  then,  if  you  please,"  says  I. 

I  really  wanted  to  lose.  I  allowed  him  forty  points 
in  advance.  He  stood  fifty-two  to  my  thirty-six.  He 
began  to  cut  the  yellow  one,  and  missed  eighteen 
points ;  and  I  was  standing  just  at  the  turning-point. 
I  made  a  stroke  so  as  to  knock  the  ball  off  of  the 
billiard-table.  No  —  so  luck  would  have  it.  Do  what 
I  might,  he  even  missed  the  doublet.  I  had  won 
again. 

"  Listen,"  says  he.  "  Peter,"  — he  did  not  call  me 
Petrushka  then,  —  UI  can't  pay  you  the  whole  right 


138  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

away.  In  a  couple  of  months  I  could  pay  three 
thousand  even,  if  it  were  necessary." 

And  there  he  stood  just  as  red,  and  his  voice 
kind  of  trembled. 

41  Very  good,  sir,"  says  I. 

With  this  he  laid  down  the  cue.  Then  he  began  to 
walk  up  and  down,  up  and  down,  the  perspiration 
running  down  his  face. 

44  Peter,"  says  he,  M  let's  try  it  again,  double  or 
quit." 

And  he  almost  burst  into  tears. 

44 What,  sir,  what!  would  you  play  against  such 
luck?" 

k'  Oh,  let  us  play,  I  beg  of  you."  And  he  brings  the 
cue,  and  puts  it  in  my  hand. 

I  took  the  cue,  and  I  threw  the  balls  on  the  table  so 
that  they  bounced  over  on  to  the  floor;  I  could  not 
help  showing  off  a  little,  naturally.  I  say,  44  All  right, 
sir." 

But  he  was  in  such  a  hurry  that  he  went  and  picked 
up  the  balls  himself,  and  I  thinks  to  myself,  "Any- 
way, I'll  never  be  able  to  get  the  seven  hundred  rubles 
from  him,  so  I  can  lose  them  to  him  all  the  same."  I 
began  to  play  carelessly  on  purpose.  But  no  —  he 
won't  have  it  so.  4'  Why,"  says  he,  44  you  are  playing 
badly  on  purpose." 

But  his  hands  trembled,  and  when  the  ball  went 
towards  a  pocket,  his  fingers  would  spread  out  and  his 
mouth  would  screw  up  to  one  side,  as  if  he  could  by 
an}-  means  force  the  ball  into  the  pocket.  Even  I 
couldn't  stand  it,  and  I  say,  "  That  won't  do  any  good, 
sir." 

Very  well.  As  he  won  this  game  I  says,  fc'  This  will 
make  it  one  hundred  and  eighty  rubles  you  owe  me,  and 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  139 

fifty  games  ;  and  now  I  must  go  and  get  my  supper." 
So  I  laid  down  my  cue,  and  went  off. 

I  went  and  sat  down  all  by  myself,  at  a  small  table 
opposite  the  door ;  and  I  look  in  and  see,  and  wonder 
what  he  will  do.  Well,  what  would  you  think?  He 
began  to  walk  up  and  down,  up  and  down,  probably 
thinking  that  no  one's  looking  at  him ;  and  then  he 
would  give  a  pull  at  his  hair,  and  then  walk  up  and 
down  again,  and  keep  muttering  to  himself;  and  then 
he  would  pull  his  hair  again. 

After  that  he  wasn't  seen  for  a  week.  Once  he 
came  into  the  dining-room  as  gloomy  as  could  be,  but 
he  didn't  enter  the  billiard-room.  The  prince  caught 
sight  of  him. 

u  Come,"  says  he,  M  let's  have  a  game." 

u  No,"  says  the  other,  "lam  not  going  to  play  any 
more." 

"  Nonsense  !  come  along." 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  I  won't  come,  I  tell  you.  For  you 
it's  all  one  whether  I  go  or  not,  yet  for  me  it's  no  good 
to  come  here." 

And  so  he  did  not  come  for  ten  days  more.  And 
then,  it  being  the  holidays,  he  came  dressed  up  in  a 
dress  suit:  he'd  evidently  been  into  company.  And 
he  was  here  all  day  long;  he  kept  playing,  and  he 
came  the  next  day,  and  the  third.   .  .  . 

And  it  began  to  go  in  the  old  style,  and  I  thought  it 
would  be  fine  to  have  another  trial  with  him. 

M  No,"  says  he,  "I'm  not  going  to  play  with  you; 
and  as  to  the  one  hundred  and  eighty  rubles  that  I  owe 
you,  if  you'll  come  at  the  end  of  a  month,  you  shall 
have  it." 

Very  good.     So  I  went  to  him  at  the  end  of  a  month. 

"•  By  God,"  says  he,  "I  can't  give  it  to  you;  but 
come  back  on  Thursday." 


140  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER. 

Well,  I  went  on  Thursday.  I  found  that  he  had  a 
splendid  suite  of  apartments. 

u  Weil,"  says  I,  "  is  he  at  home?" 

"  He  hasn't  got  up  yet,"  I  was  told. 

14  Very  good,  I  will  wait." 

For  a  body-servant  he  had  one  of  his  own  serfs, 
such  a  gray-haired  old  man  !  That  servant  was  per- 
fectly single-minded,  he  didn't  know  any  thing  about 
beating  about  the  bush.     So  we  got  into  conversation. 

"  Well,"  says  he,  "what  is  the  use  of  our  living 
here,  master  and  I?  He's  squandered  all  his  property, 
and  it's  mighty  little  honor  or  good  that  we  get  out 
of  this  Petersburg  of  yours.  As  we  started  from  the 
country,  I  thought  it  would  be  as  it  was  with  the  last 
barin  (may  his  soul  rest  in  peace  !),  we  would  go  about 
with  princes  and  counts  and  generals ;  he  thought  to 
himself,  '  I'll  find  a  countess  for  a  sweet-heart,  and 
she'll  have  a  big  dowry,  and  we'll  live  on  a  big  scale.' 
But  it's  quite  a  different  thing  from  what  he  expected ; 
here  we  are,  running  about  from  one  tavern  to  another 
as  bad  off  as  we  could  be  !  The  Princess  Rtishcheva, 
you  know,  is  his  own  aunt,  and  Prince  Borotintsef  is  his 
godfather.  What  do  you  think?  He  went  to  see  them 
only  once,  that  was  at  Christmas-time  ;  he  never  shows 
his  nose  there.  Yes,  and  even  their  people  laugh  about 
it  to  me.  'Why,'  says  they,  'your  barm,  is  not  a  bit 
like  his  father ! '  And  once  I  take  it  upon  myself  to 
say  to  him,  — 

'*  'Why  wouldn't  you  go,  sir,  and  visit  your  aunt? 
They  are  feeling  bad  because  you  haven't  been  for  so 
long.' 

" '  It's  stupid  there,  Demy&nitch,'  sa}rs  he.  Just  to 
think,  he  found  his  only  amusement  here  in  the  saloon ! 
If  he  only  would  enter  the  service!  yet,  no:  he  has 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER.  141 

got  entangled  witli  cards  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  When 
men  get  going  that  way,  there's  no  good  in  any  thing ; 
nothing  comes  to  any  good.  .  .  .  E-ekh!  we  are  going 
to  the  dogs,  and  no  mistake.  .  .  .  The  late  mistress 
(may  her  soul  rest  in  peace  !)  left  us  a  rich  inheritance  : 
no  less  than  a  thousand  souls,  and  about  three  hundred 
thousand  rubles  worth  of  timber-lands.  He  has  mort- 
gaged it  all,  sold  the  timber,  let  the  estate  go  to  rack 
and  ruin,  and  still  no  money  on  hand.  When  the 
master  is  away,  of  course,  the  overseer  is  more  than 
the  master.  What  does  he  care?  He  only  cares  to 
stuff  his  own  pockets. 

"  A  few  days  ago,  a  couple  of  peasants  brought 
complaints  from  the  whole  estate.  4  He  has  wasted  the 
last  of  the  property,'  they  say.  What  do  you  think? 
he  pondered  over  the  complaints,  and  gave  the  peasants 
ten  rubles  apiece.  Says  he,  '  I'll  be  there  very  soon. 
I  shall  have  some  money,  and  I  will  settle  all  accounts 
when  I  come,'  says  he. 

"But  how  can  he  settle  accounts  when  we  are  get- 
ting into  debt  all  the  time  ?  Money  or  no  money,  yet 
the  winter  here  has  cost  eighty  thousand  rubles,  and 
now  there  isn't  a  silver  ruble  in  the  house.  And  all 
owing  to  his  kind-heartedness.  You  see,  he's  such 
a  simple  barin  that  it  would  be  hard  to  find  his  equal : 
that's  the  very  reason  that  he's  going  to  ruin,  — going 
to  ruin,  all  for  nothing."  And  the  old  man  almost 
wept. 

Nekhliudof  woke  up  about  eleven,  and  called  me 
in. 

"  They  haven't  sent  me  any  money  yet,"  says  he. 
"  But  it  isn't  my  fault.     Shut  the  door,"  says  he. 

I  shut  the  door. 

"  Here,"  says  he,  M  take  my  watch  or  this  diamond 


142  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

pin,  and  pawn  it.  They  will  give  you  more  than  one 
hundred  ami  eighty  rubles  for  it,  and  when  I  get  my 
money  I  will  redeem  it,"  says  he. 

44  No  matter,  sir,"  says  I.  44If  you  don't  happen 
to  have  any  money,  it's  no  consequence ;  let  me  have 
the  watch  if  you  don't  mind.  I  can  wait  for  your 
convenience." 

I  can  see  that  the  watch  is  worth  more  than  three 
hundred. 

Very  good.  I  pawned  the  watch  for  a  hundred 
rubles,  and  carried  him  the  ticket.  "  You  will  owe  me 
eighty  rubles,"  says  I,  u  and  you  had  better  redeem 
the  watch." 

And  so  it  happened  that  he  still  owed  me  eighty 
rubles. 

After  that  he  began  to  come  to  us  again  every  day. 
I  don't  know  how  matters  stood  between  him  and  the 
prince,  but  at  all  events  he  kept  coming  with  him  all 
the  time,  or  else  they  would  go  and  play  cards  up-stairs 
with  Fedotka.  And  what  queer  accounts  those  three 
men  kept  between  them  !  this  one  would  lend  money  to 
the  other,  the  other  to  the  third,  yet  who  it  was  that 
owed  the  money  jrou  never  could  find  out. 

And  in  this  way  he  kept  on  coming  our  way  for 
well-nigh  two  years  ;  only  it  was  to  be  plainly  seen  that 
he  was  a  changed  man,  such  a  devil-may-care  manner 
he  assumed  at  times.  He  even  went  so  far  at  times 
as  to  borrow  a  ruble  of  me  to  pay  a  hack-driver ;  and 
yet  he  would  still  play  with  the  prince  for  a  hundred 
rubles  stake. 

He  grew  gloomy,  thin,  sallow,  As  soon  as  he  came 
he  used  to  order  a  little  glass  of  absinthe,  take  a  bite 
of  something,  and  drink  some  port  wine,  and  then  he 
would  giow  more  lively. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  SCORER.  143 

He  came  one  time  before  dinner ;  it  happened  to  be 
carnival  time,  and  he  began  to  play  with  a  hussar. 

Says  he,  "  Do  you  want  to  play  for  a  stake?  *' 

"  Very  well,"  says  he.     "  What  shall  it  be ?  " 

"A  bottle  of  Claude  Vougeaux?  What  do  you 
say?" 

"  All  right." 

Very  good.  The  hussar  won,  and  they  went  off  for 
their  dinner.  They  sat  down  at  table,  and  then  Nekh- 
liudof  says,  "  Simon,  a  bottle  of  Claude  Vougeaux, 
and  see  that  you  warm  it  to  the  proper  point." 

Simon  went  out,  brought  in  the  dinner,  but  no  wine. 

"  Well,"  says  he,  "  where's  the  wine?  " 

Simon  hurried  out,  brought  in  the  roast. 

"  Let  us  have  the  wine,"  says  he. 

Simon  makes  no  reply. 

M  What's  got  into  you?  Here  we've  almost  finished 
dinner,  and  no  wine.  Who  wants  to  drink  with  des- 
sert?" 

Simon  hurried  out.  "The  landlord,"  says  he, 
"  wants  to  speak  to  you." 

Nekhliudof  turned  scarlet.  He  sprang  up  from  the 
table. 

"  What's  the  need  of  calling  me?  " 

The  landlord  is  standing  at  the  door. 

Says  he,  "I  can't  trust  you  any  more,  unless  you 
settle  my  little  bill." 

"  Well,  didn't  I  tell  you  that  I  would  pay  the  first 
of  the  month?  " 

"That  will  be  all  very  well,"  says  the  landlord, 
"  but  I  can't  be  all  the  time  giving  credit,  and  having 
no  settlement.  There  are  more  than  ten  thousand 
rubles  of  debts  outstanding  now,"  says  he. 

"  Well,  that'll  do,  monshoor,  you  know  that  you 


144  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

can  trust  me  !  Send  the  bottle,  and  I  assure  you  that 
I  will  pay  you  very  soon." 

And  he  hurried  back. 

"  What  was  it?  why  did  they  call  you  out?  M  asked 
the  hussar. 

"  Oh,  some  one  wanted  to  ask  me  a  question." 

"  Now  it  would  be  a  good  time,"  says  the  hussar, 
u  to  have  a  little  warm  wine  to  drink." 

M  Simon,  hurry  up  !  " 

Simon  came  back,  but  still  no  wine,  nothing.  Too 
bad !     He  left  the  table,  and  came  to  me. 

"For  God's  sake,"  says  he,  "Petrushka,  let  me 
have  six  rubles! " 

He  was  pale  as  a  sheet.  "No,  sir,"  says  I:  "by 
God,  you  owe  me  quite  too  much  now." 

"  I  will  give  forty  rubles  for  six,  in  a  week's  time." 

"  If  only  I  had  it,"  says  I,  "  I  should  not  think  of 
refusing  you,  but  I  haven't." 

What  do  you  think  !  He  rushed  away,  his  teeth  set, 
his  fist  doubled  up,  and  ran  down  the  corridor  like  one 
mad,  and  all  at  once  he  gave  himself  a  knock  on  the 
forehead. 

"  O  my  God  !  "  says  he,  "  what  has  it  come  to?  " 

But  he  did  not  return  to  the  dining-room  ;  he  jumped 
into  a  carriage,  and  drove  away.  Didn't  we  have  our 
laugh  over  it !     The  hussar  asks,  — 

"  Where  is  the  gentleman  who  was  dining  with 
me?" 

"  He  has  gone,"  said  some  one. 

"Where  has  he  gone?  What  message  did  he 
leave?" 

"  He  didn't  leave  any  ;  he  just  took  to  his  carriage, 
and  went  off." 

"  That's  a  fine  way  of  entertaining  a  man  !  "  says  he. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   SCORER.  145 

Now,  thinks  I  to  myself,  it'll  be  a  long  time  before 
he  comes  again  after  this ;  that  is,  on  account  of  this 
scandal.  But  no.  On  the  next  day  he  came  about 
evening.  He  came  into  the  billiard-room.  He  had  a 
sort  of  a  box  in  his  hand.     Took  off  his  overcoat. 

"  Now  let  us  have  a  game,"  says  he. 

He  looked  out  from  under  his  eyebrows,  rather 
fierce  like. 

We  played  a  game.  "  That's  enough  now,"  says 
he :  "go  and  bring  me  a  pen  and  paper  ;  I  must  write 
a  letter." 

Not  thinking  any  thing,  not  suspecting  any  thing,  I 
bring  some  paper,  and  put  it  on  the  table  in  the  little 
room. 

"  It's  all  ready,  sir,"  says  I. 

"  Very  good."  He  sat  down  at  the  table.  He  kept 
on  writing  and  writing,  and  muttering  to  himself  all  the 
time :  then  he  jumps  up,  and,  frowning,  says,  "  Look 
and  see  if  my  carriage  has  come  yet." 

It  was  on  a  Friday,  during  carnival  time,  and  so 
there  weren't  any  of  the  customers  on  hand ;  they 
were  all  at  some  ball.  I  went  to  see  about  the  car- 
riage, and  just  as  I  was  going  out  of  the  door, 
"  Petrushka !  Petrushka ! "  he  shouted,  as  if  something 
suddenly  frightened  him. 

I  turn  round.  I  see  he's  pale  as  a  sheet,  standing 
here  and  looking  at  me. 

"  Did  you  call  me,  sir?  "  says  I. 

He  makes  no  reply. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  says  I. 

He  says  nothing.  "Oh,  yes!"  says  he.  "Let's 
have  another  game." 

Then  says  he,  "Haven't  I  learned  to  play  pretty 
well?" 


146  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  SCORER. 

He  had  just  won  the  game.     "  Yes,"  says  I. 

"  All  right,"  says  he  ;  "  go  now,  and  see  about  my 
carriage."    He  himself  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 

Without  thinking  any  thing,  I  went  down  to  the 
door.  I  didn't  see  any  carriage  at  all.  I  started  to 
go  up  again. 

Just  as  I  am  going  up,  I  hear  what  sounds  like  the 
thud  of  a  billiard-cue.  I  go  into  the  billiard-room.  I 
notice  a  peculiar  smell. 

I  look  around ;  and  there  he  is  lying  on  the  floor  in 
a  pool  of  blood,  with  a  pistol  beside  him.  I  was  so 
scared  that  I  could  not  speak  a  word. 

He  keeps  twitching,  twitching  his  leg ;  and  stretched 
himself  a  little.  Then  he  sort  of  snored,  and  stretched 
out  his  full  length  in  such  a  strange  way.  And  God 
knows  why  such  a  sin  came  about,  —  how  it  was  that 
it  occurred  to  him  to  ruin  his  own  soul,  —  but  as  to 
what  he  left  written  on  this  paper,  I  don't  understand 
it  at  all.  Truly,  you  can  never  account  for  what  is 
going  on  in  the  world. 


"  God  gave  me  all  that  a  man  can  desire,  — wealth, 
name,  intellect,  noble  aspirations.  I  wanted  to  enjoy 
myself,  and  I  trod  in  the  mire  all  that  was  best  in  me. 
I  have  done  nothing  dishonorable,  I  am  not  unfortu- 
nate, I  have  not  committed  any  crime ;  but  I  have 
done  worse :  I  have  destroyed  my  feelings,  my  intel- 
lect, my  youth.  I  became  entangled  in  a  filthy  net, 
from  which  I  could  not  escape,  and  to  which  I  could 
not  accustom  myself.  I  feel  that  I  am  falling  lower 
and  lower  every  moment,  and  I  cannot  stop  my  fall. 

4 'And  what  ruined  me?  Was  there  in  me  some 
strange  passion  which  I  might  plead  as  an  excuse  ?   No  1 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  SCORER.  147 

"  My  recollections  are  pleasant.  One  fearful  mo- 
ment of  forgetfulness,  which  can  never  be  erased  from 
my  mind,  led  me  to  come  to  my  senses.  I  shuddered 
when  I  saw  what  a  measureless  abyss  separated  me 
from  what  I  desired  to  be,  and  might  have  been.  In 
my  imagination  arose  the  hopes,  the  dreams,  and  the 
thoughts  of  my  youth. 

*•  Where  are  those  lofty  thoughts  of  life,  of  eternit}', 
of  God,  which  at  times  filled  my  soul  with  light  and 
strength?  Where  that  aimless  power  of  love  which 
kindled  my  heart  with  its  comforting  warmth?  .  .  . 

11  But  how  good  and  happy  I  might  have  been,  had  I 
trodden  that  path  which,  at  the  very  entrance  of  life, 
was  pointed  out  to  me  by  my  fresh  mind  and  true  feel- 
ings !  More  than  once  did  I  try  to  go  from  the  ruts  in 
which  my  life  ran,  into  that  sacred  path. 

•'•  I  said  to  myself,  Now  I  will  use  my  whole  strength 
of  will ;  and  yet  I  could  not  do  it.  When  I  happened 
to  be  alone,  I  felt  awkward  and  timid.  When  I  was 
with  others,  I  no  longer  heard  the  inward  voice  ;  and  I 
fell  all  the  time  lower  and  lower. 

"  At  last  I  came  to  a  terrible  conviction  that  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  lift  myself  from  this  low  plane. 
I  ceased  to  think  about  it,  and  I  wished  to  forget  all ; 
but  hopeless  repentance  worried  me  still  more  and 
more.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  thought  of  suicide 
occurred  to  me.   .   .  . 

"I  once  thought  that  the  nearness  of  death  would 
rouse  my  soul.  I  was  mistaken.  In  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  I  shall  be  no  more,  yet  my  view  has  not  in  the 
least  changed.  I  see  with  the  same  eyes,  I  hear  with 
the  same  ears,  I  think  the  same  thoughts  ;  there  is  the 
same  strange  incoherence,  unsteadiness,  and  lightness 
in  my  thoughts."  .  .   . 


ALBERT, 

A  STORY. 
1857. 


Five  rich  young  men  went  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  to  a  ball  in  Petersburg  to  have  a  good  time. 

Much  champagne  was  drunk ;  a  majority  of  the 
gentlemen  were  very  young ;  the  girls  were  pretty ;  a 
pianist  and  a  fiddler  played  indefatigably  one  polka 
after  another ;  there  was  no  cease  to  the  noise  of  con- 
versation and  dancing.  But  there  was  a  sense  of  awk- 
wardness and  constraint;  every  one  felt  somehow  or 
other — and  this  is  not  unusual  —  that  all  was  not  as 
it  should  be. 

There  were  several  attempts  made  to  make  things 
more  lively,  but  simulated  liveliness  is  much  worse 
than  melancholy. 

One  of  the  five  young  men,  who  was  more  discon- 
tented than  any  one  else,  both  with  himself  and  with 
the  others,  and  who  had  been  feeling  all  the  evening  a 
sense  of  disgust,  took  his  hat,  and  went  out  noiselessly 
on  purpose,  intending  to  go  home. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  ante-room,  but  in  the  next 
room  at  the  door  he  heard  two  voices  disputing.  The 
young  man  paused,  and  listened. 

148 


ALBERT.  149 

"  It  is  impossible,  there  are  guests  in  there,"  said  a 
woman's  voice. 

"  Come,  let  me  in,  please.  I  will  not  do  any  harm," 
urged  a  man  in  a  gentle  voice. 

"Indeed  I  will  not  without  madame's  permission," 
said  the  woman.  "  Where  are  you  going?  Oh,  what 
a  man  you  are  !  " 

The  door  was  flung  open,  and  on  the  threshold 
appeared  the  figure  of  a  stranger.  Seeing  a  guest, 
the  maid  ceased  to  detain  the  man  ;  and  the  stranger, 
timidly  bowing,  came  into  the  room  with  a  somewhat 
unsteady  gait. 

He  was  a  man  of  medium  stature,  with  a  lank, 
crooked  back,  and  long  dishevelled  hair.  He  wore  a 
short  paletot,  and  tight  ragged  pantaloons  over  coarse 
dirty  boots.  His  necktie,  twisted  into  a  string,  ex- 
posed his  long  white  neck.  His  shirt  was  filthy,  and 
the  sleeves  came  down  over  his  lean  hands. 

But,  notwithstanding  his  thoroughly  emaciated  body, 
his  face  was  attractive  and  fair ;  and  a  fresh  color 
even  mantled  his  cheeks  under  his  thin  dark  beard  and 
side-whiskers.  His  dishevelled  locks,  thrown  back, 
exposed  a  low  and  remarkably  pure  forehead.  His 
dark,  languid  eyes  looked  unswervingly  forward  with 
an  expression  of  serenity,  submission,  and  sweetness, 
which  made  a  fascinating  combination  with  the  expres- 
sion of  his  fresh,  curved  lips,  visible  under  his  thin 
moustache. 

Advancing  a  few  steps,  he  paused,  turned  to  the 
young  man,  and  smiled.  He  found  it  apparently 
rather  hard  to  smile.  But  his  face  was  so  lighted  up 
by  it,  that  the  young  man,  without  knowing  why, 
smiled  in  return. 

"■Who  is  that  man?"    he  asked  of  the  maid  in  a 


150  ALBERT. 

whisper,  as  the  stranger  walked  toward  the  room  where 
the  dancing  was  going  on. 

44  A  crazy  musician  from  the  theatre,"  replied  the 
maid.     44  He  sometimes  comes  to  call  upon  madame." 

44  Where  are  you  going,  Delesof  ?  M  some  one  at  this 
moment  called  from  the  drawing-room. 

The  young  man  who  was  called  Delesof  returned  to 
the  drawing-room.  The  musician  was  now  standing 
at  the  door;  and,  as  his  eyes  fell  on  the  dancers,  he 
showed  by  his  smile  and  by  the  beating  of  his  foot 
how  much  pleasure  this  spectacle  afforded  him. 

44  Won't  you  come,  and  have  a  dance  too?"  said 
one  of  the  guests  to  him.  The  musician  bowed,  and 
looked  at  the  hostess  inquiringly. 

44  Come,  come.  Why  not,  since  the  gentlemen  have 
invited  you?  "  said  the  hostess.  The  musician's  thin, 
weak  face  suddenly  assumed  an  expression  of  decision  ; 
and  smiling  and  winking,  and  shuffling  his  feet,  he 
awkwardly,  clumsily  went  to  join  the  dancers  in  the 
drawing-room. 

In  the  midst  of  a  quadrille  a  jolly  officer,  who  was 
dancing  very  beautifully  and  with  great  liveliness, 
accidentally  hit  the  musician  in  the  back.  His  weak, 
weary  legs  lost  their  equilibrium ;  and  the  musician, 
making  ineffectual  struggles  to  keep  his  balance, 
measured  his  length  on  the  floor. 

Notwithstanding  the  sharp,  hard  sound  made  by  his 
fall,  almost  everybody  at  the  first  moment  laughed. 

But  the  musician  did  not  rise.  The  guests  grew 
silent,  even  the  piano  ceased  to  sound.  Delesof  and 
the  hostess  were  the  first  to  reach  the  prostrate  musi- 
cian. He  was  lying  on  his  elbow,  and  gloomily  look- 
ing at  the  ground.  When  he  had  been  lifted  to  his 
feet,  and  set  in  a  chair,  he  threw  back  his  hair  from 


ALBERT.  151 

his  forehead  with  a  quick  motion  of  his  bony  hand,  and 
began  to  smile  without  replying  to  the  questions  that 
were  put. 

"  Mr.  Albert !  Mr.  Albert !  "  exclaimed  the  hostess. 
44  Were  you  hurt?  Where?  Now,  I  told  you  that  you 
had  better  not  try  to  dance.  ...  He  is  so  weak,'* 
she  added,  addressing  her  guests.  "  It  takes  all  his 
strength." 

M  Who  is  he?"  some  one  asked  the  hostess. 

"  A  poor  man,  an  artist.  A  very  nice  young  fellow ; 
but  he's  a  sad  case,  as  you  can  see." 

She  said  this  without  paying  the  least  heed  to  the 
musician's  presence.  He  suddenly  opened  his  eyes  as 
though  frightened  at  something,  collected  himself,  and 
remarked  to  those  who  were  standing  about  him,  "  It's 
nothing  at  all,"  said  he  suddenly,  arising  from  the 
chair  with  evident  effort. 

And  in  order  to  show  that  he  had  suffered  no  injury, 
he  went  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  was  going 
to  dance ;  but  he  tottered,  and  would  have  fallen 
again,  had  he  not  been  supported. 

Everybody  felt  constrained.  All  looked  at  him,  and 
no  one  spoke.  The  musician's  glance  again  lost  its 
vivacity ;  and,  apparently  forgetting  that  any  one  was 
looking,  he  put  his  hand  to  his  knee.  Suddenly  he 
raised  his  head,  advanced  one  faltering  foot,  and, 
with  the  same  awkward  gesture  as  before,  tossed  back 
his  hair,  and  went  to  a  violin-case,  and  took  out  the 
instrument. 

u  It  was  nothing  at  all,"  said  he  again,  waving  the 
violin.     "  Gentlemen,  we  will  have  a  little  music." 

44  What  a  strange  face!"  said  the  guests  among 
themselves. 

44  Maybe  there  is  great  talent  lurking  in  that  unhappy 
creature,"  said  one  of  them. 


152  ALBERT. 

"Yes:  it's  a  sad  case,  —  a  sad  case,"  said  an- 
other. 

M  What  a  lovely  face!  .  .  .  There  is  something 
extraordinary  about  it,"  said  Delesof.  M  Let  us  have 
a  look  at  him."  .  .  . 


ALBERT.  153 


II. 


Albert  by  this  time,  not  paying  attention  to  any 
one,  had  raised  his  violin  to  his  shoulder,  and  was 
slowly  crossing  over  to  the  piano,  and  tuning  his 
instrument.  His  lips  were  drawn  into  an  expression 
of  indifference,  his  eyes  were  almost  shut ;  but  his 
lank,  bony  back,  his  long  white  neck,  his  crooked 
legs,  and  disorderly  black  hair  presented  a  strange  but 
somehow  not  entirely  ridiculous  appearance.  After  he 
had  tuned  his  violin,  he  struck  a  quick  chord,  and, 
throwing  back  his  head,  turned  to  the  pianist  who  was 
waiting  to  accompany  him.  *'  Melancholic,  G  sJiarp,'* 
he  said,  turning  to  the  pianist  with  a  peremptory  ges- 
ture. And  immediately  after,  as  though  in  apology  for 
his  peremptory  gesture,  he  smiled  sweetly,  and  with 
the  same  smile  turned  to  his  audience  again. 

Tossing  back  his  hair  with  the  hand  that  held  the 
bow,  Albert  stood  at  one  side  of  the  piano,  and,  with 
a  flowing  motion  of  the  bow,  touched  the  strings. 
Through  the  room  there  swept  a  pure,  harmonious 
sound,  which  instantly  brought  absolute  silence. 

At  first,  it  was  as  though  a  ray  of  unexpectedly 
brilliant  light  had  flashed  across  the  inner  world  of 
each  hearer's  consciousness ;  and  the  notes  of  the 
theme  immediately  followed,  pouring  forth  abundant 
and  beautiful. 

Not  one  discordant  or  imperfect  note  distracted  the 
attention*  of  the  listeners.     All  the  tones  were  clear, 


154  ALBERT. 

beautiful,  and  fuH  of  meaning.  All  silently,  with 
trembling  expectation,  followed   the  development  of 

the  theme.  From  a  state  of  tedium,  of  noisy  gayety, 
or  of  deep  drowsiness,  into  which  these  people  had 
fallen,  they  were  suddenly  transported  to  a  world 
whose  existence  they  had  forgotten. 

In  one  instant  there  arose  in  their  souls,  now  a  senti- 
ment as  though  they  were  contemplating  the  past,  now 
of  passionate  remembrance  of  some  happiness,  now  the 
boundless  longing  for  power  and  glory,  now  the  feelings 
of  humility,  of  unsatisfied  love,  and  of  melancholy. 

Now  bitter-sweet,  now  vehemently  despairing,  the 
notes,  freety  intermingling,  poured  forth  and  poured 
forth,  so  sweetly,  so  powerfully,  and  so  spontaneously, 
that  it  was  not  so  much  that  sounds  were  heard,  as 
that  some  sort  of  beautiful  stream  of  poetry,  long 
known,  but  now  for  the  first  time  expressed,  gushed 
through  the  soul. 

At  each  note  that  he  played,  Albert  grew  taller  and 
taller.  At  a  little  distance,  he  had  no  appearance  of 
being  either  crippled  or  peculiar.  Pressing  the  violin 
to  his  chin,  and  with  an  expression  of  listening  with 
passionate  attention  to  the  tones  that  he  produced,  he 
convulsively  moved  his  feet.  Now  he  straightened 
himself  up  to  his  full  height,  now  thoughtfully  leaned 
forward. 

His  left  hand,  curving  over  spasmodically  on  the 
strings,  seemed  as  though  it  had  swooned  in  its  posi- 
tion, while  it  was  only  the  bony  fingers  that  changed 
about  spasmodically ;  the  right  hand  moved  smoothly, 
gracefully,  without  effort. 

His  face  shone  with  complete,  enthusiastic  delight ; 
his  eyes  gleamed  with  a  radiant,  steely  light ;  his  nos- 
trils quivered,  his  red  lips  were  parted  in  rapture. 


ALBERT.  155 

Sometimes  his  head  bent  down  closer  to  his  violin, 
his  eyes  almost  closed,  and  his  face,  half  shaded  by 
his  long  locks,  lighted  up  with  a  smile  of  genuine  bliss- 
fulness.  Sometimes  he  quickly  straightened  himself 
up,  changed  from  one  leg  to  the  other,  and  his  pure 
forehead,  and  the  radiant  look  which  he  threw  around 
the  room,  were  alive  with  pride,  greatness,  and  the 
consciousness  of  power.  Once  the  pianist  made  a 
mistake,  and  struck  a  false  chord.  Physical  pain  was 
apparent  in  the  whole  form  and  face  of  the  musician. 
He  paused  for  a  second,  and  with  an  expression  of 
childish 'anger  stamped  his  foot,  and  cried,  "Moll,  ce 
moll  I"  The  pianist  corrected  his  mistake;  Albert 
closed  his  eyes,  smiled,  and,  again  forgetting  himself 
and  everybody  else,  gave  himself  up  with  beatitude  to 
his  work.  Everybody  who  was  in  the  room  while 
Albert  was  playing  preserved  an  attentive  silence,  and 
seemed  to  live  and  breathe  only  in  the  music. 

The  gay  officer  sat  motionless  in  a  chair  by  the  win- 
dow, with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor,  and  drawing 
long  heavy  sighs.  The  girls,  awed  by  the  universal 
silence,  sat  along  by  the  walls,  only  occasionally  ex- 
changing glances  expressive  of  satisfaction  or  per- 
plexity. 

The  fat  smiling  face  of  the  hostess  was  radiant  with 
happiness.  The  pianist  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  Albert's 
face,  and  while  his  whole  figure  from  head  to  foot 
showed  his  solicitude  lest  he  should  make  some  mistake, 
he  did  his  best  to  follow  him.  One  of  the  guests,  who 
had  been  drinking  more  heavily  than  the  rest,  lay  at 
full  length  on  the  sofa,  and  tried  not  to  move  lest  he 
should  betray  his  emotion.  Delesof  experienced  an 
unusual  sensation.  It  seemed  as  though  an  icy  band, 
now  contracting,  now  expanding,  were  pressed  upon  his 


15G  ALlii:i:r. 

head.  The  roots  of  his  hair  seemed  endued  with  con- 
sciousness ;  the  cold  shivers  ran  down  his  back,  some- 
thing rose  higher  and  higher  in  his  throat,  his  nose  and 
palate  were  full  of  little  needles,  and  the  tears  stole 
down  his  cheeks. 

He  shook  himself,  tried  to  swallow  them  back  and 
wipe  them  away  without  attracting  attention,  but  fresh 
tcai-s  followed  and  streamed  down  his  face.  By  some 
sort  of  strange  association  of  impressions,  the  first 
tones  of  Albert's  violin  carried  Delesof  back  to  his 
early  youth. 

Old  before  his  time,  weary  of  life,  a  broken  man,  he 
suddenly  felt  as  though  he  were  a  boy  of  seventeen 
again,  self-satisfied  and  handsome,  blissfully  dull,  un- 
consciously happy.  He  remembered  his  first  love  for 
his  cousin  who  wore  a  pink  dress,  he  remembered  his 
first  confession  of  it  in  the  linden  alley ;  he  remem- 
bered the  warmth  and  the  inexpressible  charm  of  the 
fortuitous  kiss ;  he  remembered  the  immensity  and 
enigmatical  mystery  of  Nature  as  it  surrounded  them 
then. 

In  his  imagination  as  it  went  back  in  its  flight,  she 
gleamed  in  a  mist  of  indefinite  hopes,  of  incomprehen- 
sible desires,  and  the  indubitable  faith  in  the  possibility 
of  impossible  happiness.  All  the  priceless  moments  of 
that  time,  one  after  the  other,  arose  before  him,  not 
like  unmeaning  iustauts  of  the  fleeting  present,  but  like 
the  immutable,  full-formed,  reproachful  images  of  the 
past. 

He  contemplated  them  with  rapture,  and  wept, — 
wept  not  because  the  time  had  passed  and  he  might  have 
spent  it  more  profitably  (if  that  time  had  been  given  to 
him  again  he  would  not  have  spent  it  any  more  profit- 
ably), but  he  wept  because  it  had  passed  and  would 


A* 


ALBERT.  157 

never  return^  His  recollections  evolved  themselves 
without  effort,  and  Albert's  violin  was  their  mouth- 
piece. It  said,  "  They  have  passed,  forever  passed, 
the  days  of  thy  strength,  of  love,  and  of  happiness ; 
passed  forever,  and  never  will  return.  Weep  for 
them,  shed  all  thy  tears,  let  thy  life  pass  in  tears 
for  these  days ;  this  is  the  only  and  best  happiness 
that  remains  to  thee.,, 

At  the  end  of  the  next  variation,  Albert's  face  grew 
serene,  his  eyes  flushed,  great  clear  drops  of  sweat 
poured  down  his  cheeks.  The  veins  swelled  on  his 
forehead  ;  his  whole  body  swayed  more  and  more  ;  his 
pale  lips  were  parted,  and  his  whole  figure  expressed 
an  enthusiastic  craving  for  enjo}'ment.  Despairingly 
swaying  with  his  whole  body,  and  throwing  back  his 
hair,  he  laid  down  his  violin,  and  with  a  smile  of  proud 
satisfaction  and  happiness  gazed  at  the  bystanders. 
Then  his  back  assumed  its  ordinary  curve,  his  head 
sank,  his  lips  grew  set,  his  eyes  lost  their  fire  ;  and  as 
though  he  were  ashamed  of  himself,  timidly  glancing 
round,  and  stumbling,  he  went  into  the  next  room. 


158  ALBERT. 


III. 


Something  strange  came  over  all  the  audience,  and 
something  strange  was  noticeable  in  the  dead  silence 
that  succeeded  Albert's  playing.  It  was  as  though 
each  desired,  and  yet  dared  not,  to  acknowledge  the 
meaning  of  it  all. 

What  did  it  mean,  —  this  brightly  lighted,  warm 
room,  these  brilliant  women,  the  dawn  just  appearing 
at  the  windows,  these  hurrying  pulses,  and  the  pure 
impressions  made  by  the  fleeting  tones  of  music?  But 
no  one  ventured  to  acknowledge  the  meaning  of  it  all ; 
on  the  contrary,  almost  all,  feeling  incapable  of  throw- 
ing themselves  completely  under  the  influence  of  what 
the  new  impression  concealed  from  them,  rebelled 
against  it. 

"  Well,  now,  he  plays  might}*  well,"  said  the  officer. 

uWonderfully,"  replied  Delesof,  stealthily  wiping 
his  cheek  with  his  steeve. 

M  One  thing  sure,  it's  time  to  be  going,  gentlemen,' ' 
said  the  gentleman  who  had  been  lying  on  the  sofa, 
straightening  himself  up  a  little.  "  We'll  have  to  give 
him  something,  gentlemen.     Let  us  make  a  collection." 

At  this  time,  Albert  was  sitting  alone  in  the  next 
room,  on  the  sofa.  As  he  supported  himself  with  his 
elbows  on  his  bony  knees,  he  smoothed  his  face  with  his 
dirty,  sweaty  hand,  tossed  back  his  hair,  and  smiled  at 
his  own  happy  thoughts. 

A  large  collection  was  taken  up,  and  Delesof  was 


ALBERT.  159 

chosen  to  present  it.  Aside  from  this,  Delesof,  who 
had  been  so  keenly  and  unwontedly  affected  by  the 
music,  had  conceived  the  thought  of  conferring  some 
benefit  upon  this  man. 

It  came  into  his  head  to  take  him  home  with  him, 
to  feed  him,  to  establish  him  somewhere,  —  in  other 
words,  to  lift  him  from  his  vile  position. 

14  Well,  are  you  tired?  "  asked  Delesof,  approaching 
him.  Albert  replied  with  a  smile.  "  You  have  crea- 
tive talent ;  you  ought  seriously  to  devote  yourself  to 
music,  to  play  in  public." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  something  to  drink,"  ex- 
claimed Albert,  as  though  suddenly  waking  up. 

Delesof  brought  him  some  wine,  and  the  musician 
greedily  drained  two  glasses. 

"  What  splendid  wine  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"What  a  lovely  thing  that  Melancholie  is!"  said 
Delesof. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,"  replied  Albert  with  a  smile.  "  But 
pardon  me,  I  do  not  know  with  whom  I  have  the  honor 
to  be  talking ;  maybe  you  are  a  count  or  a  prince. 
Couldn't  you  let  me  have  a  little  money?  "  He  paused 
for  a  moment.  "  I  have  nothing  —  I  am  a  poor  man : 
I  couldn't  pay  it  back  to  you." 

Delesof  flushed,  grew  embarrassed,  and  hastened  to 
hand  the  musician  the  money  that  had  been  collected 
for  him. 

"Very  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Albert,  seizing 
the  money.  "  Now  let  us  have  some  more  music;  I 
will  play  for  3-ou  as  much  as  yon  wish.  Only  let  me 
have  something  to  drink,  something  to  drink,"  he 
repeated,  as  he  started  to  his  feet. 

Delesof  gave  him  some  more  wine,  and  asked  him  to 
sit  down  hy  him. 


ICO  ALBERT. 

M  Pardon  me  if  I  am  frank  with  yon,"  said  Delesof. 
u  Your  talent  has  Interested  me  so  much.  It  seems  to 
me  that  you  are  in  a  wretched  position." 

Albert  glanced  now  at  Delesof,  now  at  the  hostess, 
who  just  then  came  into  the  room. 

"Permit  me  to  help  you,"  continued  Delesof.  "  If 
you  need  any  thing,  then  1  should  be  very  glad  if  you 
would  come  and  stay  with  me  for  a  while.  I  live 
alone,  and  maybe  I  could  be  of  some  service  to  you." 

Albert  smiled,  and  made  no  reply. 

"Why  don't  you  thank  him?"  said  the  hostess. 
"  It  seems  to  me  that  this  would  be  a  capital  thing  for 
you.  — Only  I  would  not  advise  you,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  Delesof,  and  shaking  her  head  warningly. 

"Very  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Albert,  seizing 
Delesof  s  hand  with  both  his  moist  ones.  "  Only  now 
let  us  have  some  music,  please." 

But  the  rest  of  the  guests  were  already  making 
their  preparations  to  depart;  and  as  Albert  did  not 
address  them,  they  came  out  into  the  ante-room. 

Albert  bade  the  hostess  farewell ;  and  having  taken 
bis  worn  hat  with  wide  brim,  and  a  last  summer's  alma 
iriva,  which  composed  his  only  protection  against  the 
winter,  he  went  with  Delesof  down  the  steps. 

As  soon  as  Delesof  took  his  seat  in  his  carriage 
with  his  new  friend,  and  became  conscious  of  that  un- 
pleasant odor  of  intoxication  and  lilthiness  exhaled  by 
the  musician,  he  began  to  repent  of  the  step  that  he  had 
taken,  and  to  curse  himself  for  his  childish  softness  of 
heart  and  lack  of  reason.  Moreover,  all  that  Albert 
said  was  so  foolish  and  in  such  bad  taste,  and  he 
seemed  so  near  a  sudden  state  of  beastly  intoxication, 
that  Delesof  was  disgusted.  "  What  shall  I  do  with 
him  ?  "  he  asked  himself. 


ALBERT.  161 

After  they  had  been  driving  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
Albert  relapsed  into  silence,  took  off  his  hat,  and  laid 
it  on  his  knee,  then  threw  himself  into  a  corner  of  the 
carriage,  and  began  to  snore.  .  .  .  The  wheels  crunched 
monotonously  over  the  frozen  snow,  the  feeble  light  of 
dawn  scarcely  made  its  way  through  the  frosty  win- 
dows. 

Delesof  glanced  at  his  companion.  His  long  bod}', 
wrapped  in  his  mantle,  lay  almost  lifeless  near  him. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  a  long  head  with  large  black 
nose  was  swaying  on  his  trunk ;  but  on  examining 
more  closely  he  perceived  that  what  he  took  to  be  nose 
and  face  was  the  man's  hair,  and  that  his  actual  face 
was  lower  down. 

He  bent  over,  and  studied  the  features  of  Albert's 
face.  Then  the  beauty  of  his  brow  and  of  his  peace- 
fully closed  mouth  once  more  charmed  him.  Under 
the  influence  of  nervous  excitement  caused  by  the 
sleepless  hours  of  the  long  night  and  the  music, 
Delesof,  as  he  looked  at  that  face,  was  once  more 
carried  back  to  the  blessed  world  of  which  he  had 
caught  a  glimpse  once  before  that  night ;  again  he 
remembered  the  happy  and  magnanimous  time  of  his 
youth,  and  he  ceased  to  repent  of  his  rashness.  At 
that  moment  he  loved  Albert  truly  and  warmly,  and 
firmly  resolved  to  be  a  benefactor  to  him. 


162  ALBERT. 


IV. 


The  next  morning  when  Dclesof  was  awakened  to 
go  to  his  office,  he  saw,  with  an  unpleasant  feeling  of 
surprise,  his  old  screen,  his  old  servant,  and  his  clock 
on  the  table. 

"  What  did  I  expect  to  see  if  not  the  usual  objects 
that  surround  me?  "  he  asked  himself. 

Then  he  recollected  the  musician's  black  eyes  and 
happy  smile  ;  the  motive  of  the  Melancholie  and  all  the 
strange  experiences  of  the  night  came  back  into  his 
consciousness.  It  was  never  his  way,  however,  to 
reconsider  whether  he  had  done  wisely  or  foolishly  in 
taking  the  musician  home  with  him.  After  he  had 
dressed,  he  carefully  laid  out  his  plans  for  the  day :  he 
took  some  paper,  wrote  out  some  necessary  directions 
for  the  house,  and  hastily  put  on  his  cloak  and  galoshes. 

As  he  went  by  the  dining-room  he  glanced  in  at  the 
door.  Albert,  with  his  face  buried  in  the  pillow  and 
lying  at  full  length  in  his  dirty,  tattered  shirt,  was 
buried  in  the  profoundest  slumber  on  the  saffron  sofa, 
where  in  absolute  unconsciousness  he  had  been  laid  the 
night  before. 

Delesof  felt  that  something  was  not  right:  it  dis- 
turbed him.  "  Please  go  for  me  to  Boriuzovsky,  and 
borrow  his  violin  for  a  day  or  two,"  said  he  to  his 
man  ;  u  and  when  he  wakes  up,  bring  him  some  coffee, 
and  get  him  some  clean  linen  and  some  old  suit  or 
other  of  mine.     Fix  him  up  as  well  as  you  can,  please." 


ALBERT.  163 

When  he  returned  home  in  the  afternoon,  Delesof, 
to  his  surprise,  found  that  Albert  was  not  there. 

"  Where  is  he?  "  he  asked  of  his  man. 

"  He  went  out  immediately  after  dinner,"  replied  the 
servant.  "He  took  the  violin,  and  went  out,  saying 
that  he  would  be  back  again  in  an  hour ;  but  since  that 
time  we  have  not  seen  him." 

"Ta,  ta!  how  provoking!"  said  Delesof.  "Why 
did  yon  let  him  go,  Zakhar?  " 

Zakhar  was  a  Petersburg  lackey,  who  had  been  in 
Delesof's  service  for  eight  years.  Delesof,  as  a  single 
young  bachelor,  could  not  help  intrusting  him  with 
his  plans  ;  and  he  liked  to  get  his  judgment  in  regard 
to  each  of.  his  undertakings. 

"How  should  I  have  ventured  to  detain  him?" 
replied  Zakh&r,  playing  with  his  watch-charms.  "  If 
you  had  intimated,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch,  that  you  wished 
me  to  keep  him  here,  I  might  have  kept  him  at  home. 
But  you  only  spoke  of  his  wardrobe." 

"  Ta !  how  vexatious  !  Well,  what  has  he  been  doing 
while  I  was  out?" 

Zakhar  smiled. 

"  Indeed,  he's  a  real  artist,  as  you  may  say,  Dmitri 
Ivanovitch.  As  soon  as  he  woke  up  he  asked  for  some 
madeira :  then  he  began  to  keep  the  cook  and  me 
pretty  bus}-.  Such  an  absurd  .  .  .  However,  he's  a 
very  interesting  character.  I  brought  him  some  tea, 
got  some  dinner  ready  for  him  ;  but  he  would  not  eat 
alone,  so  he  asked  me  to  sit  down  with  him.  But 
when  he  began  to  play  on  the  fiddle,  then  I  knew  that 
you  would  not  find  many  such  artists  at  Izler's.  One 
might  well  keep  such  a  man.  When  he  played  'Down 
the  Little  Mother  Volga '  for  us,  why,  it  was  enough  to 
make  a  man  weep.     It  was  too  good  for  any  thing ! 


1C4  ALBERT. 

The  people  from  all  the  floors  came  down  into  our 
entry  to  listen." 

44  Well,  did  you  give  him  some  clothes?"  asked  the 
barin. 

44  Certainly  I  did :  I  gave  him  your  dress-shirt,  and 
I  put  on  him  an  overcoat  of  mine.  You  want  to  help 
such  a  man  as  that,  he's  a  fine  fellow."  Zakhtir 
smiled.  u  lie  asked  me  what  rank  you  were,  and  if 
you  had  had  important  acquaintances,  and  how  many 
souls  of  peasantry  you  had." 

M  Very  good  :  but  now  we  must  send  and  find  him  ; 
and  henceforth  don't  give  him  any  thing  to  drink, 
otherwise  you'll  do  him  more  harm  than  good." 

44  That  is  true,"  said  Zakhar  in  assent.  44  He 
doesn't  seem  in  very  robust  health:  we  used  to  have 
an  overseer  who,  like  him  "... 

Delesof,  who  had  already  long  ago  heard  the  story 
of  the  drunken  overseer,  did  not  give  Zakhar  time  to 
finish,  but  bade  him  make  every  thing  ready  for  the 
night,  and  then  go  out  and  bring  the  musician  back. 

He  threw  himself  down  on  his  bed,  and  put  out  the 
candle ;  but  it  was  long  before  he  fell  asleep,  for 
thinking  about  Albert. 

44  This  may  seem  strange  to  some  of  my  friends," 
said  Delesof  to  himself,  4t  but  how  seldom  it  is  that 
I  can  do  any  thing  for  any  one  beside  myself !  and  I 
ought  to  thank  God  for  a  chance  when  one  presents 
itself.  I  will  not  send  him  away.  I  will  do  every 
thing,  at  least  every  thing  that  I  can,  to  help  him. 
Maybe  he  is  not  absolutely  crazy,  but  only  inclined  to 
get  drunk.  It  certainly  will  not  cost  me  very  much. 
Where  one  is,  there  is  always  enough  to  satisfy  two. 
Let  him  live  with  me  a  while,  and  then  we  will  find  him 
a  place,  or  get  him  up  a  concert ;  we'll  help  him  off  the 


ALBERT.  165 

*hoals,  and  then  there  will  be  time  enough  to  see  what 
•vill  come  of  it."  An  agreeable  sense  of  self-satisfac- 
tion came  over  him  after  making  this  resolution. 

"  Certainly  I  am  not  a  bad  man  :  I  might  say  I  am 
far  from  being  a  bad  man,"  he  thought.  "I  might 
go  so  far  as  to  say  that  I  am  a  good  man,  when  I 
compare  nryself  with  others." 

He  was  just  dropping  off  to  sleep  when  the  sound  of 
opening  doors,  and  steps  in  the  ante-room,  roused  him 
again.  "  Well,  shall  I  treat  him  rather  severely?  "  he 
asked  himself ;  "  I  suppose  that  is  best,  and  I  ought  to 
doit." 

He  rang. 

"  Well,  did  you  find  him?  "  he  asked  of  Zakhar,  who 
answered  his  call. 

"  He's  a  poor,  wretched  fellow,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch," 
said  Zakhar,  shaking  his  head  significantly,  and  closing 
his  eyes. 

41  What!  is  he  drunk?" 

"Very  weak." 

"  Had  he  the  violin  with  him?  " 

u  I  brought  it :  the  lady  gave  it  to  me." 

"  All  right.  Now  please  don't  bring  him  to  me 
to-night :  let  him  sleep  it  off ;  and  to-morrow  don't 
under  any  circumstances  let  him  out  of  the  house." 

But  before  Zakhar  had  time  to  leave  the  room, 
Albert  came  in. 


1G6  ALBERT. 


"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you've  gone  to  bed  at 
this  time,"  said  Albert  with  a  smile.  "I  was  there 
■gain,  at  Anna  Ivanovna's.  I  spent  a  very  pleasant 
evening.  We  had  music,  told  stories ;  there  was  a  very 
pleasant  company  there.  Please  let  me  have  a  glass 
of  something  to  drink,"  he  added,  seizing  a  carafe  of 
water  that  stood  on  the  table,  "  only  not  water." 

Albert  was  just  as  he  had  been  the  night  before,  — 
the  same  lovely  smiling  eyes  and  lips,,  the  same  fresh 
inspired  brow,  and  weak  features.  Zakhar's  overcoat 
fitted  him  as  though  it  had  been  made  for  him,  and  the 
clean,  tall,  stiffly-starched  collar  of  the  dress-shirt  pic- 
turesquely fitted  around  his  delicate  white  neck,  giving 
him  a  peculiarly  childlike  and  innocent  appearance. 

He  sat  down  on  Delesof's  bed,  smiling  with  pleasure 
and  gratitude,  and  looked  at  him  without  speaking. 
Delesof  gazed  into  Albert's  eyes,  and  suddenly  felt 
himself  once  under  the  sway  of  that  smile.  All  desire 
for  sleep  vanished  from  him,  he  forgot  his  resolution 
to  be  stern :  on  the  contraiy,  he  felt  like  having  a  gay 
time,  to  hear  some  music,  and  to  talk  confidentially 
with  Albert  till  morning.  Delesof  bade  Zakhar  bring 
a  bottle  of  wine,  cigarettes,  and  the  violin. 

"This  is  excellent,"  said  Albert.  M  It's  early  yet, 
we'll  have  a  little  music.  I  will  play  whatever  you 
like." 

Zakhar,  with  evident  satisfaction,  brought  a  bottle 


ALBERT.  107 

of  Lafitte,  two  glasses,  some  mild  cigarettes  such  as 
Albert  smoked,  and  the  violin.  But,  instead  of  going 
off  to  bed  as  his  barin  bade  him,  he  lighted  a  cigar, 
and  sat  down  in  the  next  room. 

"  Let  us  talk  instead,"  said  Delesof  to  the  musician, 
who  was  beginning  to  tune  the  violin. 

Albert  sat  down  submissively  on  the  bed,  and  smiled 
pleasantly. 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  said  he,  suddenly  striking  his  forehead 
with  his  hand,  and  putting  on  an  expression  of  anxious 
curiosity.  The  expression  of  his  face  always  foretold 
what  he  was  going  to  say.  M  I  wanted  to  ask  you," 
—  he  hesitated  a  little,  —  "that  gentleman  who  was 
there  with  you  last  evening.  .  .  .  You  called  him  N. 
Was  he  the  son  of  the  celebrated  N.?" 

"  His  own  son,"  replied  Delesof,  not  understanding 
at  all  what  Albert  could  find  of  interest  in  him. 

"  Indeed  !  "  he  exclaimed,  smiling  with  satisfaction. 
"  I  instantly  noticed  that  there  was  something  pecul- 
iarly aristocratic  in  his  manners.  I  love  aristocrats. 
There  is  something  splendid  and  elegant  about  an 
aristocrat.  And  that  officer  who  danced  so  beauti- 
fully," he  went  on  to  ask.  "  He  also  pleased  me  very 
much,  he  was  so  gay  and  noble  looking.  It  seems  he 
is  called  Adjutant  N.  N." 

"Who?"  asked  Delesof . 

"The  one  who  ran  into  me  when  we  were  dancing. 
He  must  be  a  splendid  man." 

"  No,  he  is  a  silly  fellow,"  replied  Delesof. 

"Oh,  no!  it  can't  be,"  rejoined  Albert  hotly. 
"There's  something  very,  very  pleasant  about  him. 
And  he's  a  fine  musician,"  added  Albert.  "He 
played  something  from  an  opera.  It's  a  long  time 
since  I  have  seen  any  one  who  pleased  me  so  much." 


168  ALBERT. 

44  Yes,  he  plays  very  well ;  but  I  don't  like  his  play- 
ing," said  Delesof,  anxious  to  bring  his  companion  to 
talk  about  music.  "He  does  not  understand  classic 
music,  but  only  Donizetti  and  Bellini ;  and  that's  no 
music,  you  know.     You  agree  with  me,  don't  you?  " 

"Oh,  no,  no!  Pardon  me,"  replied  Albert  with  a 
gentle  expression  of  vindication.  "  The  old  music  is 
music ;  but  modern  music  is  music  too.  And  in  the 
modern  music  there  are  extraordinarily  beautiful  things. 
Now,  4  Somnambula,'  and  the  finale  of  4  Lucia,'  and 
Chopin,  and  4  Robert' 1  I  often  think,"  —  he  hesi- 
tated, apparently  collecting  his  thoughts,  —  "that  if 
Beethoven  were  alive,  he  would  weep  tears  of  joy  to 
hear  4  Somnambula.'  It's  so  beautiful  all  through.  I 
heard  4  Somnambula '  first  when  Viardot  and  Rubini 
were  here.  That  was  something  worth  while,"  he 
said,  with  shining  eyes,  and  making  a  gesture  with 
both  hands,  as  though  he  were  casting  something  from 
his  breast.  "I'd  give  a  good  deal,  but  it  would  be 
impossible,  to  bring  it  back." 

44  Well,  but  how  do  you  like  the  opera  nowadays?  " 
asked  Delesof. 

"  Bosio  is  good,  very  good,"  was  his  reply,  "  ex- 
quisite beyond  words ;  but  she  does  not  touch  me 
here,"  he  said,  pointing  to  his  sunken  chest.  "A 
singer  must  have  passion,  and  she  hasn't  any.  She  is 
enjoyable,  but  she  doesn't  torture  you." 

44  Well,  how  about  Lablache?  " 

44 1  heard  him  in  Paris,  in  4  The  Barber  of  Seville.' 
Then  he  was  the  only  one,  but  now  he  is  old.  He 
can't  be  an  artist,  he  is  old." 

44  Well,  supposing  he  is  old,  still  he  is  fine  in  mor- 
ceaux  cT ensemble ,"  said  Delesof,  still  speaking  of 
Lablache. 


ALBERT.  169 

"  Who  said  that  he  was  old?  "  said  Albert  severely. 
"  He  can't  be  old.  The  artist  can  never  be  old.  Much 
is  needed  in  an  artist,  but  fire  most  of  all,"  he  declared 
with  glistening  eyes,  and  raising  both  hands  in  the  air. 
And,  indeed,  a  terrible  inner  fire  seemed  to  glow 
throughout  his  whole  frame.  "  Ah,  my  God!"  he 
exclaimed  suddenly.  "  You  don't  know  Petrof,  do 
you,  —  Petrof,  the  artist?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  know  him,"  replied  Delesof  with  a 
smile. 

r*  How  I  wish  that  3'ou  and  he  might  become  ac- 
quainted Y  You  would  enjoy  talking  with  him.  How 
he  does  understand  art !  He  and  I  often  used  to  meet 
at  Anna  Ivanovna's,  but  now  she  is  vexed  with  him 
for  some  reason  or  other.  But  I  really  wish  that  you 
might  make  his  acquaintance.  He  has  great,  great 
talent." 

"  Oh  !     Does  he  paint  pictures?  "  asked  Delesof. 

"I  don't  know.  No,  I  think  not;  but  he  was  an 
artist  of  the  Academy.  What  thoughts  he  had  !  When- 
ever he  talks,  it  is  wonderful.  Oh,  Petrof  has  great 
talent,  only  he  leads  a  very  gay  life !  .  .  .  It's  too 
bad,"  said  Albert  with  a  smile.  The  next  moment  he 
got  up  from  the  bed,  took  the  violin,  and  began  to 
play. 

"Have  you  been  at  the  opera  lately?"  asked 
Delesof. 

Albert  looked  round,  and  sighed. 

"  Ah,  I  have  not  been  able  to !  "  he  said,  clutching 
his  head.  Again  he  sat  down  by  Delesof.  "I  will 
tell  you,"  he  went  on  to  say,  almost  in  a  whisper.  "  I 
can't  go  :  I  can't  play  there.  I  have  nothing,  nothing 
at  all,  —  no  clothes,  no  home,  no  violin.  It's  a 
wretched  life, — a  wretched  life!"   he  repeated  the 


170  ALBERT. 

phrase.  "  Yes,  and  why  have  I  got  into  such  a  state? 
Wiry,  indeed?  It  ought  not  to  have  been,"  said  he, 
smiling.     "  Akh  I  Don  Juan." 

And  he  struck  his  head. 

u  Now  let  us  have  something  to  eat,"  said  Delesof. 

Albert,  without  replying,  sprang  up,  seized  the 
violin,  and  began  to  play  the  finale  of  the  first  act  of 
41  Don  Juan,"  accompanying  it  with  a  description 
of  the  scene  in  the  opera. 

Delesof  felt  the  hair  stand  up  on  his  head,  when  he 
played  the  voice  of  the  dying  commander. 

"No,  I  cannot  play  to-night,"  said  Albert,  laying 
down  the  instrument.  "  I  have  been  drinking  too 
much."  But  immediately  after  he  went  to  the  table, 
poured  out  a  brimming  glass  of  wine,  drank  it  at  one 
gulp,  and  again  sat  down  on  the  bed  near  Delesof. 

Delesof  looked  steadily  at  Albert.  The  latter  oc- 
casionally smiled,  and  Delesof  returned  his  smile. 
Neither  of  them  spoke,  but  the  glance  and  smile 
brought  them  close  together  into  a  reciprocity  of  affec- 
tion. Delesof  felt  that  he  was  growing  constantly 
fonder  and  fonder  of  this  man,  and  he  experienced 
an  inexpressible  pleasure. 

"Were  you  ever  in  love?"  he  asked  suddenly. 
Albert  remained  sunk  in  thought  for  a  few  seconds, 
then  his  face  lighted  up  with  a  melancholy  smile.  He 
bent  over  toward  Delesof,  and  gazed  straight  into  his 
eyes. 

"Why  did  you  ask  me  that  question?"  he  whis- 
pered. "  But  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  I  like  you," 
he  added,  after  a  few  moments  of  thought,  and  glan- 
cing around.  "  I  will  not  deceive  you,  I  will  tell  you 
all,  just  as  it  was,  from  the  beginning."  He  paused, 
and  his  eyes  took    on  a  strange  wild    appearance. 


ALBERT.  171 

"  You  know  that  I  am  weak  in  judgment,"  he  said 
suddenly.  "  Yes,  yes,"  he  continued.  "  Anna  Ivan- 
ovna  has  told  you  about  it.  She  tells  everybody  that 
I  am  crazy.  It  isn't  true,  she  says  it  for  a  joke  ;  she 
is  a  good  woman,  but  I  really  have  not  been  quite  well 
for  some  time."  Albert  paused  again,  and  stood  up, 
gazing  with  wide-opened  eyes  at  the  dark  door.  M  You 
asked  me  if  I  had  ever  been  in  love.  Yes,  I  have  been 
in  love,"  he  whispered,  raising  his  brows.  "  That 
happened  long  ago ;  it  was  at  a  time  when  I  still  had 
a  place  at  the  theatre.  I  went  to  play  second  violin 
at  the  opera,  and  she  came  into  a  parquet  box  at  the 
left." 

Albert  stood  up,  and  bent  over  to  Delesof's  ear. 
"  But  no,"  said  he,  "  why  should  I  mention  her  name? 
You  probably  know  her,  eveiybody  knows  her.  I  said 
nothing,  but  simply  looked  at  her :  I  knew  that  I  was 
a  poor  artist,  and  she  an  aristocratic  lady.  I  knew 
that  very  well.  I  only  looked  at  her,  and  had  no 
thoughts." 

Albert  paused  for  a  moment,  as  though  making  sure 
of  his  recollections. 

"  How  it  happened  I  know  not,  but  I  was  invited 
once  to  accompany  her  on  my  violin.  .  .  .  Now  I  was 
only  a  poor  artist !  "  he  repeated,  shaking  his  head  and 
smiling.  "  But  no,  I  cannot  tell  you,  I  cannot!  "  he 
exclaimed,  again  clutching  his  head.  "  How  happy  I 
was ! " 

"What?  did  you  go  to  her  house  often?"  asked 
Delesof. 

"  Once,  only  once.  .  .  .  But  it  was  my  own  fault; 
I  wasn't  in  my  right  mind.  I  was  a  poor  artist,  and 
she  an  aristocratic  lady.  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken 
to  her.     But  I  lost  my  senses,  I  committed  a  folly. 


172  ALBERT. 

Petrof  told  mc  the  truth :  4  It  would  have  been  better 
only  to  hove  seeu  her  at  the  theatre.'  " 

"  What  did  you  do?  "  asked  Delesof. 

M  Ah  !  wait,  wait,  I  eauuot  tell  you  that." 

And,  hiding  his  face  iu  his  hauds,  he  said  nothing 
for  some  time. 

"  I  was  late  at  the  orchestra.  Petrof  and  I  had 
been  drinking  that  evening,  and  I  was  excited.  She 
was  sitting  in  her  box,  and  talking  with  some  general. 
I  don't  know  who  that  general  was.  She  was  sitting 
at  the  very  edge  of  the  box,  with  her  arm  resting  on 
the  rim.  She  wore  a  white  dress,  with  pearls  on  her 
neck.  She  was  talking  with  him,  but  she  looked  at 
mc.  Twice  she  looked  at  me.  She  had  arranged  her 
hair  in  such  a  becoming  way !  I  stopped  playing,  and 
stood  near  the  bass,  and  gazed  at  her.  Then,  for  the 
first  time,  something  strange  took  place  in  me.  She 
smiled  on  the  general,  but  she  looked  at  me.  I  felt 
certain  that  she  was  talking  about  me  ;  and  suddenly  I 
seemed  to  be  not  in  my  place  in  the  orchestra,  but  was 
standing  in  her  box,  and  seizing  her  hand  iu  that  place. 
What  was  the  meaning  of  that?  •■  asked  Albert,  after 
a  moment's  silence. 

"  A  powerful  imagination,"  said  Delesof. 

"  No,  no,  ...  I  cannot  tell,"  said  Albert  frown- 
ing. "  Even  then  I  was  poor.  I  hadn't  any  room ; 
and  when  I  went  to  the  theatre,  I  sometimes  used  to 
sleep  there." 

"  What,  in  the  theatre?  "  asked  Delesof. 

"  Ah !  I  am  not  afraid  of  these  stupid  things. 
Ah !  just  wait  a  moment.  As  soon  as  everybody 
was  gone,  I  went  to  that  box  where  she  had  been 
sitting,  and  slept  there.  That  was  my  only  pleasure. 
How  many  nights  I  spent  there  !     Only  once  again  did 


ALBERT.  173 

I  have  that  experience.  At  night  many  things  seemed 
to  come  to  me.  But  I  cannot  tell  you  much  about 
them."  Albert  contracted  his  brows,  and  looked  at 
Delesof.     "  What  did  it  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

u  It  was  strange,"  replied  the  other. 

"  No,  wait,  wait!"  he  bent  over  to  his  ear,  and 
said  in  a  whisper,  — 

"  I  kissed  her  hand,  wept  there  before  her,  and 
said  many  things  to  her.  I  heard  the  fragrance  of 
her  sighs,  I  heard  her  voice.  She  said  many  things 
to  me  that  one  night.  Then  I  took  my  violin,  and 
began  to  play  softly.  And  I  played  beautifully.  But 
it  became  terrible  to  me.  I  am  not  afraid  of  such 
stupid  things,  and  I  don't  believe  in  them,  but  my 
head  felt  terribly,"  he  said,  smiling  sweetly,  and  mov- 
ing his  hand  over  his  forehead.  "  It  seemed  terrible  to 
me  on  account  of  nry  poor  mind  ;  something  happened 
in  my  head.  Maybe  it  was  nothing ;  what  do  you 
think?" 

Neither  spoke  for  several  minutes. 

11  Und  wenn  die  Wolken  sie  verhullen, 
Die  Sonne  bleibt  doch  ewig  klar.1 

hummed  Albert,  smiling  gently.  "That  is  true,  isn't 
it?"  he  asked. 

"  Ich  audi  habe  gelebt  and  genossen."  2 

"  Ah,  old  man  Petrof !  how  this  would  have  made 
things  clear  to  you  !  " 

Delesof,  in  silence  and  with  dismay,  looked  at  his 
companion's  excited  and  colorless  face. 

"Do  you  know  the   Juristen  waltzes?  "    suddenly 

1  E'en  though  the  clouds  may  veil  it, 

The  sun  shines  ever  clear. 

2  I  also  have  lived  and  rejoiced. 


174  ALBERT. 

asked  AUiert  in  a  loud  voice,  and  without  waiting  for 
an  answer,  jumped  up,  seized  the  violin,  and  began  to 
play  tlic  waltz.  In  absolute  self-forgetfulness,  and 
evidently  imagining  that  a  whole  orchestra  was  play- 
ing for  him,  Albert  smiled,  began  to  dance,  to  shuffle 
his  feet,  and  to  play  admirably. 

"Hey,  we  will  have  a  good  time!*'  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  ended,  and  waved  his  violin.  "  I  am  going,*' 
said  he,  after  sitting  down  in  silence  for  a  little. 
44  Won't  you  come  along  too?  " 

"  Where?  "  asked  Delesof  in  surprise. 

"Let  us  go  to  Anna  Ivanovua's  again.  It's  gay 
there,  —  bustle,  people,  music." 

Delesof  for  a  moment  was  almost  persuaded.  How- 
ever, coming  to  his  senses,  he  promised  Albert  that 
he  would  go  with  him  the  next  day. 

"  I  should  like  to  go  this  minute." 

44  Indeed,  I  wouldn't  go." 

Albert  sighed,  and  laid  down  the  violin. 

44  Shall  I  stay,  then?  "  He  looked  over  at  the  table, 
but  the  wine  was  gone ;  and  so,  wishing  him  a  good- 
night, he  left  the  room. 

Delesof  rang.  "  Look  here,"  said  he  to  Zakh&r, 
44  don't  let  Mr.  Albert  go  anywhere  without  asking  me 
about  it  first." 


ALBERT.  175 


VI. 


The  next  day  was  a  holiday.  Delesof,  on  waking, 
sat  in  his  parlor,  drinking  his  coffee  and  reading  a 
book.  Albeit,  who  was  in  the  next  room,  had  not  yet 
moved.  Zakhar  discreetly  opened  the  door,  and  looked 
into  the  dining-room. 

"Would  you  believe  it,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch,  there  he 
lies  asleep  on  the  bare  sofa.  I  would  not  send  him 
away  for  any  thing,  God  knows.  He's  like  a  little 
child.     Indeed,  he's  an  artist !  " 

At  twelve  o'clock,  there  was  a  sound  of  yawning 
and  coughing  on  the  other  side  of  the  door. 

Zakhar  again  crept  into  the  dining-room ;  and  the 
barin  heard  his  wheedling  voice,  and  Albert's  gentle, 
beseeching  voice. 

"Well,  how  is  he?"  asked  Delesof,  when  Zakhar 
came  out. 

"  He  feels  blue,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch.  He  doesn't 
want  to  get  dressed.  He's  so  cross.  All  he  asks  for 
is  something  to  drink." 

"Now,  if  we  are  to  get  hold  of  him,  we  must 
strengthen  his  character,"  said  Delesof  to  himself. 
And,  forbidding  Zakhar  to  give  him  any  wine,  he 
again  devoted  himself  to  his  book ;  in  spite  of  himself, 
however,  listening  all  the  time  for  developments  in  the 
dining-room. 

But  there  was  no  movement  there,  only  occasionally 
were  heard  a  heavy  chest  cough  and   spitting.     Two 


176  ALBERT. 

hours  passed.  Delesof,  after  dressing  to  go  out, 
resolved  to  look  in  upon  his  guest.  Albert  was  sit- 
ting motionless  at  the  window,  leaning  his  head  on 
his  hands. 

He  looked  round.  His  face  was  sallow,  morose, 
and  not  only  melancholy  but  deeply  unhappy.  He 
tried  to  welcome  his  host  with  a  smile,  but  his  face 
assumed  a  still  more  woe-begone  expression.  It 
seemed  as  though  he  were  on  the  point  of  tears. 

With  effort  he  stood  up  and  bowed.  u  If  I  might 
have  just  a  little  glass  of  simple  vodka,"  he  exclaimed 
with  a  supplicating  expression.  "  I  am  so  weak.  If 
you  please !  " 

"  Coffee  will  be  more  strengthening,  I  would  advise 
you." 

Albert's  face  lost  its  childish  expression ;  he  gazed 
coldly,  sadly,  out  of  the  window,  and  fell  back  into 
the  chair. 

"  Wouldn't  3'ou  like  some  breakfast?  M 

14  No,  thank  you,  I  haven't  any  appetite." 

M  If  you  want  to  play  on  the  violin,  you  will  not 
disturb  me,"  said  Delesof,  laying  the  instrument  on 
the  table.  Albert  looked  at  the  violin  with  a  con- 
temptuous smile. 

"No,  I  am  too  weak,  I  cannot  play,"  he  said,  and 
pushed  the  instrument  from  him. 

After  that,  in  reply  to  all  Delesof  s  propositions  to 
go  to  walk,  to  go  to  the  theatre  in  the  evening,  or  any 
thing  else,  he  only  shook  his  head  mournfully,  and 
refused  to  speak. 

Delesof  went  out,  made  a  few  calls,  dined  out,  and 
before  the  theatre  hour,  he  returned  to  his  rooms  to 
change  his  attire  and  find  out  how  the  musician  was 
getting  along. 


ALBERT.  Ill 

Albert  was  sitting  in  the  dark  ante-room,  and,  with 
his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  was  gazing  at  the  heated 
stove.  He  was  neatly  dressed,  washed  and  combed ; 
but  his  eyes  were  sad  and  vacant,  and  his  whole  form 
expressed  even  more  weakness  and  debility  than  in 
the  morning. 

"  Well,  have  you  had  dinner,  Mr.  Albert?  "  asked 
Delesof. 

Albert  nodded  his  head,  and,  after  looking  with  a 
terrified  expression  at  Delesof,  dropped  his  eyes.  It 
made  Delesof  feel  uncomfortable. 

"I  have  been  talking  to-day  with  a  manager,"  said 
he,  also  dropping  his  eyes.  u  He  would  be  very  glad 
to  make  terms  with  you,  if  you  would  like  to  accept 
an  engagement." 

"I  thank  you,  but  I  cannot  play,"  said  Albert, 
almost  in  a  whisper ;  and  he  went  into  his  room,  and 
closed  the  door  as  softly  as  possible.  After  a  few 
minutes,  lifting  the  latch  as  softly  as  possible,  he 
came  out  of  the  room,  bringing  the  violin.  Casting  a 
sharp,  angry  look  at  Delesof,  he  laid  the  instrument  on 
the  table,  and  again  disappeared. 

Delesof  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  smiled. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  now?  Wherein  am  I  to  blame  ?  " 
he  asked  himself. 

"  Well,  how  is  the  musician?  "  was  his  first  question 
when  he  returned  home  late  that  evening. 

"  Bad,"  was  Zakhar's  short  and  ringing  reply. 
M  He  sighs  all  the  time,  and  coughs,  and  says  nothing 
at  all,  only  he  has  asked  for  vodka  four  or  five  times, 
and  once  I  gave  him  some.  How  can  we  avoid  killing 
him  this  way,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch?  That  was  the  way 
the  overseer"  ... 

"  Well,  hasn't  he  played  on  the  fiddle?  " 


178  ALBERT. 

11  Didn't  even  touch  it.  I  took  it  to  him,  twice  — 
Well,  he  took  it  up  slowly,  and  carried  it  out,"  said 
Zakhar  with  a  smile.  "  Do  you  still  bid  me  refuse  him 
something  to  drink?  " 

"  Don't  give  him  any  thing  to-day  ;  we'll  see  what'll 
come  of  it.     What  is  he  doing  now?  " 

11  He  has  shut  himself  into  the  parlor." 

Delesof  went  into  his  library,  took  down  a  few 
French  books,  and  the  Testament  in  German.  "Put 
these  books  to-morrow  in  his  room  ;  and  look  out,  don't 
let  him  get  away,"  said  he  to  Zakhar. 

The  next  morning  Zakhar  informed  his  barin  that  the 
musician  had  not  slept  a  wink  all  night.  »« He  kept 
walking  up  and  down  his  rooms,  and  going  to  the  side- 
board to  try  to  open  the  cupboard  and  door ;  but  every 
thing,  in  spite  of  his  efforts,  remained  locked." 

Zakhar  told  how,  while  he  was  going  to  sleep,  he 
heard  Albert  muttering  to  himself  in  the  darkness  and 
gesticulating. 

Each  day  Albert  grew  more  gloomy  and  taciturn.  It 
seemed  as  though  he  were  afraid  of  Delesof,  and  his 
face  expressed  painful  terror  whenever  their  eyes  met. 
He  did  not  touch  either  book  or  violin,  and  made  no 
replies  to  the  questions  put  to  him. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  musician  came  to  stay 
with  him,  Delesof  returned  home  late  in  the  evening, 
tired  and  worried.  He  had  been  on  the  go  all  day, 
attending  to  his  duties.  Though  they  had  seemed 
very  simple  and  easy,  yet,  as  is  often  the  case,  he  had 
not  made  any  progress  at  all,  in  spite  of  his  strenuous 
endeavors.  Afterwards  he  had  stopped  at  the  club, 
and  lost  at  whist.     He  was  out  of  spirits. 

'kWell,  God  be  with  him,"  he  replied  to  Zakhar, 


ALBERT.  179 

who  had  been  telling  him  of  Albert's  pitiable  state. 
"To-morrow  I  shall  be  really  worried  about  him.  Is 
he  willing  or  not  to  stay  with  me,  and  follow  my  ad- 
vice? No?  Then  it's  idle.  I  have  done  the  best  that 
I  could." 

"  That's  what  comes  of  trying  to  be  a  benefactor  to 
people,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  I  am  putting  myself  to 
inconvenience  for  him.  I  have  taken  this  filthy  crea- 
ture into  my  rooms,  which  keep3  me  from  receiving 
strangers  in  the  morning  ;  I  work  and  trot ;  and  yet  he 
looks  upon  me  as  some  enemy  who,  against  his  will, 
would  keep  him  in  pound.  But  the  worst  is,  that  he  is 
not  willing  to  take  a  step  in  his  own  behalf.  That's 
the  way  with  them  all." 

That  word  all  referred  to  people  in  general,  and 
especially  to  those  with  whom  he  had  been  associated 
in  business  that  day.  "But  what  is  to  be  done  for 
him  now?  What  is  he  contemplating?  Why  is  he 
melancholy?  Is  he  melancholy  on  account  of  the  de- 
bauch from  which  I  rescued  him?  on  account  of  the 
degradation  in  which  he  has  been?  the  humiliation 
from  which  I  saved  him?  Can  it  be  that  he  has 
fallen  so  low  that  it  is  a  burden  for  him  to  look  on 
a  pure  life?  .  .  . 

"  No,  this  was  a  childish  action,"  reasoned  Delesof. 
"  Why  should  I  undertake  to  direct  others,  when  it  is 
as  much  as  I  can  do  to  manage  my  own  affairs?  " 

The  impulse  came  over  him  to  let  him  go  immediately, 
but  after  a  little  deliberation  he  postponed  it  till  the 
morning. 

During  the  night  Delesof  was  aroused  by  the  noise 
of  a  falling  table  in  the  ante-room,  and  the  sound  of 
voices  and  stamping  feet. 

"Just  wait  a  little,  I  will  tell  Dmitri  Ivanovitch," 


180  •     ALBERT. 

said  ZakhaVs  voice  ;  Albert's  voice  replied  passionately 
and  incoherently. 

Delesof  leaped  up,  and  went  with  a  candle  into  the 
ante-room.  Zakhar  in  his  nightdress  was  standing 
Rgafost  the  door;  Albert  in  cap  and  alma  viva  was 
trying  to  pull  him  away,  and  was  screaming  at  him  in 
a  pathetic  voice.  % 

u  You  have  no  right  to  detain  me ;  I  have  a  pass- 
port; I  have  not  stolen  any  thing  from  you.  You 
must  let  me  go.     I  will  goto  the  police." 

"I  beg  of  you,  Dmitri  Iv&novitch,"  said  Zakhar, 
turning  to  his  barin,  and  continuing  to  stand  guard  at 
the  door.  "  He  got  up  in  the  night,  found  the  key  in 
my  overcoat-pocket,  and  he  has  drunk  up  the  whole 
decanter  of  sweet  vodka.  Was  that  good  ?  And  now 
he  wants  to  go.  You  didn't  give  me  orders,  and  so  I 
could  not  let  him  out." 

Albert,  seeing  Delesof,  began  to  pull  still  more  vio- 
lently on  Zakhar.  u  No  one  has  the  right  to  detain 
me  !  He  cannot  do  it,"  he  screamed,  raising  his  voice 
more  and  more. 

"  Let  him  go,  Zakhar,"  said  Delesof.  "I  do  not 
wish  to  detain  you,  and  I  have  no  right  to,  but  I  advise 
you  to  stay  till  to-morrow,"  he  added,  addressing 
Albert. 

"  No  one  has  the  right  to  detain  me.  I  am  going  to 
the  police,"  screamed  Albert  more  and  more  furiously, 
addressing  only  Zakhar,  and  not  heeding  Delesof. 
"Guard!"  he  suddenly  shouted  at  the  top  of  his 
voice. 

M  Now,  what  are  you  screaming  like  that  for?  You 
see  you  are  free  to  go,"  said  Zakhar,  opening  the  door. 

Albert  ceased  screaming.  u  How  did  they  dare? 
They  were  going  to  murder  me!     No!  "  he  muttered 


ALBERT.       '  181 

to  himself  as  he  put  on  his  galoshes.  Not  offering  to 
say  good-by,  and  still  muttering  something  unintelli- 
gible, he  went  out  of  the  door.  Zakhar  accompanied 
him  to  the  gate,  and  came  back. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch  !  Any  longer 
would  have  been  a  sin,"  said  he  to  his  barin.  "And 
now  we  must  count  the  silver." 

Delesof  only  shook  his  head,  and  made  no  reply. 
There  came  over  him  a  lively  recollection  of  the  first 
two  evenings  which  he  and  the  musician  had  spent 
together ;  he  remembered  the  last  wretched  days  which 
Albert  had  spent  there  ;  and  above  all  he  remembered 
the  sweet  but  absurd  sentiment  of  wonder,  of  love,  and 
of  sympathy,  which  had  been  aroused  in  him  by  the 
very  first  sight  of  this  strange  man ;  and  he  began  to 
pit}'  him. 

"  What  will  become  of  him  now  ?  "  he  asked  himself. 
"  Without  money,  without  warm  clothing,  alone  at  mid- 
night !  "  He  thought  of  sending  Zakhar  after  him,  but 
now  it  was  too  late. 

"Is  it  cold  out  doors?  "  he  asked. 

"A  healthy  frost,  Dmitri  Ivanovitch,"  replied  the 
man.  "  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  you  will  have  to  buy 
some  more  firewood  to  last  till  spring." 

"  But  what  did  you  mean  by  saying  that  it  would 
last?" 


182  ALBERT. 


VII. 


Out  of  doors  it  was  really  cold  ;  but  Albert  did  not 
feel  it,  he  was  so  excited  by  the  wine  that  he  had  taken 
and  by  the  quarrel. 

As  he  entered  the  street,  he  looked  around  him,  and 
rubbed  his  hands  with  pleasure.  The  street  was 
erapt}',  but  the  long  lines  of  lights  were  still  brilliantly 
gleaming  ;  the  sk}r  was  clear  and  beautiful.  "  What !  " 
he  cried,  addressing  the  lighted  window  in  Delesof's 
apartments ;  and  then  thrusting  his  hands  in  his  trou- 
sers pockets  under  his  coat,  and  looking  straight  ahead, 
he  walked  with  heavy  and  uncertain  steps  straight  up 
the  street. 

He  felt  an  absolute  weight  in  his  legs  and  abdomen, 
something  hummed  in  his  head,  some  invisible  power 
seemed  to  hurl  him  from  side  to  side ;  but  he  still 
plunged  ahead  in  the  direction  of  where  Anna  Iv&n- 
ovna  lived. 

Strange,  disconnected  thoughts  rushed  through  his 
head.  Now  he  remembered  his  quarrel  with  Zaklmr, 
now  something  recalled  the  sea  and  his  first  voyage  in 
the  steamboat  to  Russia ;  now  the  merry  night  that  he 
had  spent  with  some  friend  in  the  wine-shop  by  which 
he  was  passing ;  then  suddenly  there  came  to  him  a 
familiar  air  singing  itself  in  his  recollections,  and  he 
seemed  to  see  the  object  of  his  passion  and  the  terrible 
night  in  the  theatre. 

But  notwithstanding    their  incoherence,   all    these 


ALBERT.  183 

recollections  presented  themselves  before  his  imagina- 
tions with  such  distinctness  that  when  he  closed  his 
eyes  he  could  not  tell  which  was  nearer  to  the  reality  : 
what  he  was  doing,  or  what  he  was  thinking.  He  did 
not  realize  and  he  did  not  feel  how  his  legs  moved, 
how  he  staggered  and  hit  against  a  wall,  how  he  looked 
around  him,  and  how  he  made  his  way  from  street  to 
street. 

As  he  went  along  the  Little  Morskaya,  Albert  tripped 
and  fell.  Collecting  himself  in  a  moment,  he  saw 
before  him  some  huge  and  magnificent  edifice,  and  he 
went  toward  it. 

In  the  sky  not  a  star  was  to  be  seen,  nor  sign  of 
dawn,  nor  moon,  neither  were  there  any  street-lights 
there ;  but  all  objects  were  perfectly  distinguishable. 
The  windows  of  the  edifice,  which  loomed  up  at  the 
corner  of  the  street,  were  brilliantly  lighted,  but  the 
lights  wavered  like  reflections.  The  building  kept 
coming  nearer  and  nearer,  clearer  and  clearer,  to 
Albert. 

But  the  lights  vanished  the  moment  that  Albert  en- 
tered the  wide  portals.  Inside  it  was  dark.  He  took 
a  few  steps  under  the  vaulted  ceiling,  and  something 
like  shades  glided  by  and  fled  at  his  approach. 

M  Why  did  I  come  here?"  wondered  Albert;  but 
some  irresistible  power  dragged  him  forward  into  the 
depths  of  the  immense  hall. 

There  stood  some  lofty  platform,  and  around  it  in 
silence  stood  what  seemed  like  little  men.  "  Who  is 
going  to  speak?"  asked  Albert.  No  one  answered, 
but  some  one  pointed  to  the  platform.  There  stood 
now  on  the  platform  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  bushy  hair 
and  dressed  in  a  variegated  gown.  Albert  immediately 
recognized  his  friend  Petrof . 


184  ALBERT. 

u  How  strange!  what  is  he  doing  here?"  said 
Albert  to  himself. 

"  No,  brethren,"  said  Petrof,  pointing  to  something, 
41  you  did  not  appreciate  the  man  while  he  was  living 
among  you  ;  you  did  not  appreciate  him  !  He  was  not 
a  cheap  artist,  not  a  merely  mechanical  performer, 
not  a  crazy,  ruined  man.  He  was  a  genius,  a  great 
musical  genius,  who  perished  among  you  unknown 
and  unvalued." 

Albert  immediately  understood  of  whom  his  friend 
was  speaking;  but  not  wishing  to  interrupt  him,  he 
hung  his  head  modestly.  u  lie,  like  a  sheaf  of  straw, 
was  wholly  consumed  by  the  sacred  fire  which  we  all 
serve,"  continued  the  voice.  "But  he  has  completely 
fulfilled  all  that  God  gave  him ;  therefore  he  ought  to 
be  considered  a  great  man.  You  may  despise  him, 
torture  him,  humiliate  him,"  continued  the  voice,  more 
and  more  energetically,  "  but  he  has  been,  is,  and  will 
be  immeasurabl}'  higher  than  you  all.  He  is  happy, 
he  is  good.  He  loved  you  all  alike,  or  cared  for 
3tou,  it  is  all  the  same;  but  he  has  served  only  that 
with  which  he  was  so  highly  endowed.  He  loved  one 
thing,  —  beauty,  the  only  infinite  good  in  the  world. 
Oh,  yes,  what  a  man  he  is !  Fall  all  of  you  before 
him.  On  your  knees!"  cried  Petrof  in  a  thundering 
voice. 

But  another  voice  mildly  answered  from  another 
corner  of  the  hall.  "  I  do  not  wish  to  bow  my  knee 
before  him,"  said  the  voice. 

Albert  instantly  recognized  Delesof. 

M  "Why  is  he  great?  And  why  should  we  bow  before 
him?  Has  he  conducted  himself  in  an  honorable  and 
righteous  manner?  Has  he  brought  society  an}'  ad- 
vantage?   Do  we  not  know  how  he  borrowed  money, 


ALBERT.  185 

and  never  returned  it ;  how  he  carried  off  a  violin  that 
belonged  to  a  brother  artist,  and  pawned  it?" 

44  My  God  !  how  did  he  know  all  that?  "  said  Albert 
to  himself,  drooping  his  head  still  lower. 

"Do  we  not  know,"  the  voice  went  on,  u  how  he 
pandered  to  the  lowest  of  the  low,  pandered  to  them 
for  money  ?  Do  we  not  know  how  he  was  driven  out 
of  the  theatre?  How  Anna  Ivanovna  threatened  to 
hand  him  over  to  the  police?  " 

44  My  God!  that  is  all  true,  but  protect  me,"  cried 
Albert.  "  You  are  the  only  one  who  knows  why  I  did 
so." 

"Stop,  for  shame!"  cried  Petrof's  voice  again. 
u  What  right  have  you  to  accuse  him?  Have  you  lived 
his  life?     Have  you  experienced  his  enthusiasms?  "• 

44  Right!  right!  "  whispered  Albert. 

44  Art  is  the  highest  manifestation  of  power  in  man. 
Tt  is  given  only  to  the  favored  few,  and  it  lifts  the 
chosen  to  such  an  eminence  that  the  head  swims,  and 
it  is  hard  to  preserve  its  integrity.  In  art,  as  in  every 
struggle,  there  are  heroes  who  bring  all  under  subjec- 
tion to  them,  and  perish  if  they  do  not  attain  their 
ends." 

Petrof  ceased  speaking ;  and  Albert  lifted  his  head, 
and  tried  to  shout  in  a  loud  voice,  44  Right!  right!" 
but  his  voice  died  without  a  sound. 

44  That  is  not  the  case  with  you.  This  does  not  con- 
cern you,"  sternly  said  the  artist  Petrof,  addressing 
Delesof.  44Yes,  humble  him,  despise  him,"  he  con- 
tinued, 44  for  he  is  better  and  happier  than  all  the  rest 
of  you." 

Albert,  with  rapture  in  his  heart  at  hearing  these 
words,  could  not  contain  himself,  but  went  up  to  his 
friend,  and  was  about  to  kiss  him. 


186  ALBERT. 

44  Get  thee  gone,  I  do  not  know  you,"  replied  Petrof. 
*4  Go  your  own  way,  you  cannot  come  here." 

44  Here,  you  drunken  fellow,  you  cannot  come  here," 
cried  a  policeman  at  the  crossing. 

Albert  hesitated,  then  collected  all  his  forces,  and, 
endeavoring  not  to  stumble,  crossed  over  to  the  next 
street. 

It  was  only  a  few  steps  to  Anna  Iv&novna's.  From 
the  hall  of  her  house  a  stream  of  light  fell  on  the 
snowy  dvor,  and  at  the  gate  stood  sledges  and  car- 
riages. 

Clinging  with  both  hands  to  the  balustrade,  he  made 
his  way  up  the  steps,  and  rang  the  bell. 

The  maid's  sleep}r  face  appeared  at  the  open  door, 
and  looked  angrily  at  Albert. 

44  It  is  impossible,"  she  cried  ;  44 1  have  been  forbid- 
den to  let  you  in,"  and  she  slammed  the  door.  The 
sounds  of  music  and  women's  voices  floated  down  to 
him. 

Albert  sat  down  on  the  ground,  and  leaned  his  head 
against  the  wall,  and  shut  his  eyes.  At  that  very 
instant  a  throng  of  indistinct  but  correlated  visions 
took  possession  of  him  with  fresh  force,  mastered 
him,  and  carried  him  off  into  the  beautiful  and  free 
domain  of  fancy. 

44  Yes!  he  is  better  and  happier,"  involuntarily  the 
voice  repeated  in  his  imagination. 

From  the  door  were  heard  the  sounds  of  a  polka. 
These  sounds  also  told  him  that  he  was  better  and 
happier.  In  a  neighboring  church  was  heard  the  sound 
of  a  prayer-bell ;  and  the  prayer-bell  also  told  him  that 
he  was  better  and  happier. 

44  Now  I  will  go  back  to  that  hall  again,"  said 
Albert  to  himself.  44  Petrof  must  have  many  things 
still  to  tell  me." 


ALBERT.  187 

There  seemed  to  be  no  one  now  in  the  hall ;  and  in 
the  place  of  the  artist  Petrof,  Albert  himself  stood  on 
the  platform,  and  was  playing  on  his  violin  all  that  the 
voice  had  said  before. 

But  his  violin  was  of  strange  make :  it  was  com- 
posed of  nothing  but  glass,  and  he  had  to  hold  it  with 
both  hands,  and  slowly  rub  it  on  his  breast  to  make 
it  give  out  sounds.  The  sounds  were  so  sweet  and 
delicious,  that  Albert  felt  he  had  never  before  heard 
any  thing  like  them.  The  more  tightly  he  pressed  the 
violin  to  his  breast,  the  more  sweet  and  consoling  they 
became.  The  louder  the  sounds,  the  more  swiftly  the 
shadows  vanished,  and  the  more  brilliantly  the  walls  of 
the  hall  were  illuminated.  But  it  was  necessary  to 
play  very  cautiously  on  the  violin,  lest  it  should  break. 

Albert  played  on  the  instrument  of  glass  cautiously 
and  well.  He  played  things  the  like  of  which  he  felt 
no  one  would  ever  hear  again. 

He  was  growing  tired,  when  a  heavy  distant  sound 
began  to  annoy  him.  It  was  the  sound  of  a  bell,  but 
this  sound  seemed  to  have  a  language. 

^  Yes,"  said  the  bell,  with  its  notes  coming  from 
somewhere  far  off  and  high  up,  "yes,  he  seems  to 
you  wretched ;  you  despise  him,  but  he  is  better  and 
happier  than  you.  No  one  ever  will  play  more  on  that 
instrument !  " 

These  words  which  he  understood  seemed  suddenly 
so  wise,  so  novel,  and  so  true,  to  Albert,  that  he  stopped 
playing,  and,  while  trying  not  to  move,  lifted  his  e3'es 
and  his  arms  toward  heaven.  He  felt  that  he  was 
beautiful  and  happy.  Although  no  one  was  in  the 
hall,  Albert  expanded  his  chest,  and  proudly  lifted  his 
head,  and  stood  on  the  platform  so  that  all  might  see 
him. 


188  ALBERT. 

Suddenly  some  one's  hand  was  gently  laid  on  his 
shoulder ;  he  turned  around,  and  in  the  half  light  saw 
a  woman.  She  looked  pityingly  at  him,  and  shook 
her  head.  He  immediately  became  conscious  that 
what  he  was  doing  was  wrong,  and  a  sense  of  shame 
came  over  him. 

44  Where  shall  I  go?"  he  asked  her.  Once  more 
she  gazed  long  and  fixedly  at  him,  and  bent  her  head 
pityingly.  She  was  the  oue,  the  very  one  whom  he 
loved,  and  her  dress  was  the  same  ;  on  her  round  white 
neck  was  the  pearl  necklace,  and  her  lovely  arms  were 
bare  above  the  elbows. 

She  took  him  in  her  arms,  and  bore  him  away 
through  the  hall.  At  the  entrance  of  the  hall,  Albert 
saw  the  moon  and  water.  But  the  water  was  not  below 
as  is  usually  the  case,  and  the  moon  was  not  above ; 
there  was  a  white  circle  in  one  place  as  sometimes 
happens.  The  moon  and  the  water  were  together,  — 
everywhere,  above  and  below,  and  on  all  sides  and 
around  them  both.  Albert  and  his  love  darted  off 
toward  the  moon  and  the  water,  and  he  now  realized 
that  she  whom  he  loved  more  than  all  in  the  world 
was  in  his  arms :  he  embraced  her,  and  felt  inexpressi- 
ble felicity. 

4'  Is  not  this  a  dream?  "  he  asked  himself.  But  no, 
it  was  the  reality,  it  was  more  than  reality :  it  was 
reality  and  recollection  combined. 

Then  he  felt  that  the  indescribable  pleasure  which 
he  had  felt  during  the  last  moment  was  gone,  and 
would  never  be  renewed. 

44  Why  am  I  weeping?"  he  asked  of  her.  She 
looked  at  him  in  silence,  with  pitying  eyes.  Albert 
understood  what  she  desired  to  say  in  reply.  4*  Just 
as  when  I  was  alive,"  he  went  on  to  say.  She?  with- 
out replying,  looked  straight  forward. 


ALBERT.  189 

"This  is  terrible  !  How  can  I  explain  to  her  that  I 
am  alive?"  he  asked  himself  in  horror.  "My  God, 
I  am  alive  !     Do  understand  me,"  he  whispered. 

"He  is  better  and  happier,"  said  a  voice. 

But  something  kept  oppressing  Albert  ever  more 
powerfully.  Whether  it  was  the  moon  or  the  water,  or 
her  embrace  or  his  tears,  he  could  not  tell,  but  he  was 
conscious  that  he  could  not  say  all  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  say,  and  that  all  would  be  quickly  over. 

Two  guests  coming  out  from  Anna  Ivanovna's 
rooms  stumbled  against  Albert  lying  on  the  threshold. 
One  of  them  went  back  to  Anna  Ivanovna,  and  called 
her.  "That  was  heartless,"  he  said.  "You  might 
let  a  man  freeze  to  death  that  way." 

"  Akhl  why,  that  is  m}'  Albert.  See  where  he  was 
lying!"  exclaimed  the  hostess.  "  Annushka,  have 
him  brought  into  the  room  ;  find  a  place  for  him  some- 
where," she  added,  addressing  the  maid. 

"Oh!  I  am  alive,  why  do  you  bury  me?"  mut- 
tered Albert,  as  they  brought  him  unconscious  into  the 
room. 


TWO   HUSSAES. 

A    TALE. 
1856. 


Jomini,  ay,  Jomini, 
But  not  a  single  word  of  vodka.1 

D.  Davuidof. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  this  century,  when  there 
were  no  railways,  no  macadamized  roads,  no  gas  or 
stearine  candles,  no  low  and  springy  sofas,  no  unvar- 
nished furniture,  no  disillusionized  young  men  with  eye- 
glasses, no  women  philosophers  of  liberal  tendencies, 
no  dear  Camilles,  such  as  our  time  has  produced  in 
abundance ;  in  those  naive  days  when  travellers  made 
the  journey  from  Moscow  to  Petersburg  by  stage  or 
carriage,  and  took  with  them  a  whole  kitchen  of 
domestic  preparations,  and  travelled  for  a  week,  night 
and  day,  over  soft  roads,  muddy  or  dusty  as  the  case 
might  be,  pinned  their  faith  to  Pozharsky  cutlets, 
Valdai  bluebells,  and  pretzels ;  when  during  the  long 
autumn  evenings  tallow  candles  burned  till  they  had 
to  be  snuffed,  and  cast  their  rays  on  family  circles  of 
twenty  or  thirty  people  (at  balls,  wax  or  spermaceti 
candles  were  set  up  in  candelabra)  ;    when   furniture 

1  From  the  poem  entitled,  "  The  Song  of  an  Old  Hussar,"  in  which  a 
veteran  contrasts  the  mighty  days  of  the  past  with  the  dilettanti  present. 
Denis  Vasilyevitch  Davuidof,  who  was  an  officer  of  husaars,  died  in  1839. 
—  Tb. 

190 


TWO  HUSSARS.  191 

was  placed  with  stiff  precision  ;  when  onr  fathers  were 
still  young,  not  merely  by  the  absence  of  wrinkles  and 
gray  hair,  but  fought  duels  for  women,  and  were  fain 
to  rush  from  one  end  of  a  room  to  the  other  to  pick  up 
a  handkerchief  dropped  accidentally  or  otherwise,  and 
our  mothers  wore  short  waists  and  huge  sleeves,  and 
decided  family  affairs  by  the  drawing  of  lots ;  when 
charming  Camilles  avoided  the  light  of  day ;  in  the 
naive  period  of  Masonic  lodges,  of  Martinists,  and  of 
the  Tugendbund;  at  the  time  of  the  Miloradovitches, 
Davuidofs,  and  Pushkins,  —  a  meeting  of  landed  pro- 
prietors took  place  in  the  governmental  city  of  K.,  and 
the  election  of  the  college  of  nobles  was  drawing  to  a 
close. 


192  TWO  HUSSAJiS. 


I. 


"  Well,  all  right,  it's  all  the  same,  be  it  in  the  hall," 
said  a  young  officer  dressed  in  a  shuba,  and  wearing  a 
hussar's  helmet,  as  he  dismounted  from  a  travelling 
sledge  in  front  of  the  best  hotel  of  the  city  of  K. 

"A  great  meeting,  little  father,  your  excellency, — 
a  tremendous  crowd,"  said  the  hall-boy,  who  had 
already  learned  from  the  officer's  man  that  it  was 
Count  Turbin,  and  therefore  honored  him  with  the 
address  of  "  your  excellency."  "Madame  Afrimova 
and  her  daughters  have  expressed  the  intention  of  going 
away  this  evening  ;  you  can  be  accommodated  with  their 
room  as  soon  as  it  is  vacated,  —  No.  11,"  the  hall- 
boy  went  on  to  say,  noiselessly  showing  the  count  the 
way,  and  constantly  turning  round  to  look  at  him. 

In  the  sitting-room,  at  a  small  table  under  a  black- 
ened full-length  portrait  of  the  Emperor  Alexander, 
sat  a  number  of  men,  evidently  belonging  to  the  local 
aristocracy,  drinking  champagne ;  and  on  one  side 
were  some  travelling  merchants  in  blue  shubas. 

The  count  entered  the  room,  and  calling  Blucher,  a 
huge  gray  boarhound  that  accompanied  him,  he  threw 
off  his  cloak,  the  collar  of  which  was  covered  with 
frost,  and,  after  ordering  vodka,  sat  down  at  the  table 
in  a  short  blue-satin  jacket,  and  entered  into  conversa- 
tion with  the  gentlemen  sitting  there.  The  latter, 
attracted  toward  the  new-comer  by  his  handsome  and 
frank  exterior,  offered  him  a  glass  of  champagne. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  193 

The  count  had  begun  to  drink  his  'glass  of  vodka ; 
but  now  he  also  ordered  a  bottle  of  champagne,  in 
order  to  return  the  courtesy  of  his  new  companions. 

The  driver  came  in  to  ask  for  vodka-money. 

44  Sashka,"  *  cried  the  count,  "  give  it  to  him." 

The  driver  went  out  with  Sashka,  but  quickly 
returned,  holding  the  mone}'  in  his  hands. 

44  What !  little  father,  'slency,  is  that  right  ?  I  did 
my  best  for  you.  You  promised  me  a  half-ruble,  and 
you  have  only  given  me  a  quarter !  " 

44  Sashka,  give  him  a  ruble.'* 

Sashka,  hanging  down  his  head,  gazed  at  the  driver's 
feet. 

"He  will  have  enough,"  said  he  in  his  deep  voice. 
"  Besides,  I  haven't  any  more  money." 

The  count  drew  from  his  pocket-book  the  two  solitary 
blue  notes2  which  were  in  it,  and  gave  one  to  the 
driver,  who  kissed  his  hand,  and  went  off.  "  I  have 
come  to  the  end,"  said  the  count,  "  my  last  five 
rubles." 

44  True  hussar  style,  count,"  said  one  of  the  nobles, 
whose  mustaches,  voice,  and  a  certain  energetic  free- 
dom in  the  use  of  his  legs,  proclaimed  him,  beyond  a 
perad venture,  to  be  a  retired  cavalryman.  "  Are  }rou 
going  to  spend  some  time  here,  count?  " 

44  I  must  have  some  money  if  I  stay,  otherwise  I 
should  not  be  very  likely  to.  Besides,  there  are  no 
spare  rooms,  the  Devil  take  it,  in  this  cursed  tavern." 

44 1  beg  of  you,  count,"  pursued  the  cavalryman, 
44  wouldn't  you  like  to  come  in  with  me?  My  room  is 
No.  7.  If  3*ou  wouldn't  object  to  sleep  there  for  the 
present.      We    shall   be   here    three    days    at    least. 

1  Diminished  diminutive  of  Aleksandr. 

2  Blue  notes  were  five  rubles. 


194  TWO  HUSSARS. 

To-day  I  was  a*t  the  marshal's :  how  glad  he  would 
be  to  see  you  !  " 

"  That's  right,  count,  stay  with  us,"  urged  another 
of  the  table  companions,  a  handsome  young  man. 
44  What  is  your  hurry  ?  And  besides,  this  happens  only 
once  in  three  years,  —  these  elections.  We  might  get 
a  glimpse  of  some  of  our  girls,  count !  M 

44  Sashka,  get  me  some  clean  linen.  I  am  going  to 
have  a  bath,"  said  the  count,  rising.  44  And  then  we 
will  see ;  perhaps  I  may  decide  to  pay  my  respects  to 
the  marshal." 

Then  he  called  the  waiter,  and  said  something  to 
him  in  an  undertone.  The  waiter  replied,  with  a 
laugh,  "That  is  within  human  possibility,"  and  went 
out. 

44  Well,  then,  little  father,  I  have  given  orders  to 
have  my  trunk  taken  to  your  room,"  cried  the  count, 
as  he  went  out  of  the  door. 

44 1  shall  consider  it  a  favor :  it  delights  me,"  replied 
the  cavalryman  as  he  hastened  to  the  door,  and  cried, 
44  No.  7;  don't  forget !  " 

When  the  count  was  out  of  hearing,  the  cavalryman 
returned  to  his  place,  and  drawing  his  chair  nearer  to 
the  chinovnik,  and  looking  him  straight  in  his  smiling 
eyes,  said,  — 

44  Well,  he's  the  very  one." 

44  What  one?" 

44 1  tell  you  that  he's  that  very  same  hussar  duellist, 
—  let  me  see,  the  famous  Turbin.  He  knew  me.  I'll 
wager  he  knew  me.  I  assure  you,  at  Lebedyan  he  and 
I  were  on  a  spree  for  three  weeks,  and  were  never 
sober  once.  That  was  when  I  lost  my  remount.  There 
was  one  little  affair  at  that  time,  —  we  were  engaged 
in  it  together.    Ah,  he  is  a  gay  lad  !  isn't  he,  though?  " 


TWO  nUSSARS.  195 

"Indeed  he  is.  What  pleasant  manners  he  has! 
There's  no  fault  to  be  found  with  him,"  replied  the 
handsome  young  man.  "  How  quickly  we  became 
acquainted !  ...  He  isn't  more  than  twenty-two,  is 
he?" 

"  He  certainly  would  not  seem  so,  would  he?  .  .  . 
But  he's  really  more  than  that.  Well,  now  you  want 
to  know  who  he.  is,  don't  you?  Who  carried  off 
Megunova?  He  did.  He  killed  Sablin.  He  kicked 
Matnyef  out  of  the  window.  He  '  did '  Prince  Nes- 
terof  out  of  three  hundred  thousand  rubles.  He's  a 
regular  madcap.  You  ought  to  know  him, — a  gam- 
bler, duellist,  seducer,  but  a  whole-souled  fellow,  a 
genuine  hussar.  We  got  talked  about  a  good  deal, 
but  if  any  one  really  understood  what  it  meant  to  be 
a  genuine  hussar  !     Those  were  great  times." 

And  the  cavalryman  began  to  tell  his  comrade  of  a 
drinking-bout  with  the  count,  which  had  never  taken 
place,  nor  could  have  taken  place.  It  could  not  have 
taken  place,  first,  because  he  had  never  seen  the 
count  before,  and  had  retired  from  the  service  two 
years  before  the  count  had  entered  it ;  and  secondly, 
because  this  cavalryman  had  never  served  in  the  cav- 
alry, but  had  served  four  years  as  a  very  insignificant 
yunker  in  the  Bielevsky  regiment ;  and  just  as  soon  as 
he  was  promoted  to  be  ensign,  he  retired. 

But  ten  years  before  he  had  received  an  inheritance, 
and  actually  went  to  Lebedyan ;  and  there  he  spent 
seven  hundred  rubles  with  the  cavalry  officers,  and  had 
had  made  for  him  an  uhlan's  uniform  with  orange  lapels, 
with  the  intention  of  entering  the  uhlans.  His  thought 
of  entering  the  cavalry,  and  his  three  weeks  spent  with 
the  officers  at  Lebedyan,  made  the  very  happiest  and 
most  brilliant  period  of  his  life  ;    so  that  he  began  to 


196  TWO   HUSSARS. 

transfer  his  thought  into  a  reality.  Then,  as  he  added 
remembrance  to  it,  he  began  actually  to  believe  in  his 
military  past,  —  which  did  not  prevent  him  from  being 
a  worthy  man  through  his  kindness  of  heart  and 
uprightness. 

u  Yes,  any  one  who  has  never  served  in  the  cavalry," 
he  went  on  to  say,  "  will  never  understand  us  fellows." 

He  sat  astride  of  his  chair,  and,,  thrusting  out  his 
lower  lip,  went  on  in  a  deep  voice,  "  It  happens  you 
are  riding  along  in  front  of  the  battalion.  A  devil  is 
under  you,  not  a  horse,  prancing  along ;  thus  you  sit 
on  this  perfect  devil.  The  battalion  commander  comes 
along.  '  Lieutenant,'  says  he,  i  I  beg  of  you  —  your 
service  is  absolutely  indispensable.  You  must  lead 
the  battalion  for  the  parade.'  Very  well,  and  so  it 
goes.  You  look  around,  you  give  a  shout,  you  lead 
the  brave  fellows  who  are  under  your  command.  Ah  ! 
the  deuce  take  it !  'twas  a  glorious  time  !  " 

The  count  came  back  from  the  bath,  all  ruddy,  and 
with  his  hair  wet,  and  went  directly  to  No.  7,  where 
the  cavalryman  was  already  sitting  in  his  dressing- 
gown,  with  his  pipe,  and  thinking  with  delight  and 
some  little  anxiety  of  the  good  fortune  that  had  be- 
fallen him  in  sharing  his  room  with  the  famous  Turbin. 
"  Well,  now,"  the  thought  came  into  his  head,  "  sup- 
pose he  should  take  me,  and  strip  me  naked,  and  carry 
me  outside  the  town  limits,  and  set  me  down  in  the 
snow,  ...  or  smear  me  with  tar  .  .  .  or  simply  .  .  . 
But,  no  :  he  would  not  do  such  a  thing  to  a  comrade," 
he  said,  trying  to  comfort  himself. 

"  Sashka,  give  Bliicher  something  to  eat,"  cried  the 
count. 

Sashka  made  his  appearance.  He  had  been  drinking 
glasses  of  vodka  ever  since  his  arrival,  and  was  begin- 
ning to  be  genuinely  tipsy. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  197 

"  You  have  not  been  able  to  control  yourself. 
You  have  been  getting  drunk,  canaillya!  .  .  .  Feed 
Bliicher." 

"  It  won't  kill  him  to  fast.  .  .  .  You  see,  .  .  .  he's 
so  plump,"  replied  Sashka,  caressing  the  dog. 

"Now,  none  of  your  impudence.  Go,  and  feed 
him." 

"  All  you  care  for  is  to  have  your  clog  fat ;  but  if  a 
man  drinks  a  little  glass,  then  you  pitch  into  him." 

"  Hey  !  I'll  strike  3rou,"  cried  the  count  with  a  voice 
that  made  the  window-panes  rattle,  and  even  scared 
the  cavalryman  somewhat. 

"  You  would  better  ask  if  Sashka  has  had  any  thing 
to  eat  to-day.  All  right,  strike  away,  if  a  dog  is 
more  to  you  than  a  man,"  continued  Sashka. 

But  at  that  instant  he  received  such  a  violent  blow 
of  the  fist  across  the  face  that  he  staggered,  struck 
his  head  against  the  partition,  and,  clutching  his  nose, 
leaped  through  the  door,  and  threw  himself  down  on  a 
bench  in  the  corridor. 

"  He  has  broken  my  teeth,"  he  growled,  wiping  his 
bloody  nose  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  scratch- 
ing Bliicher's  back,  as  the  dog  licked  him.  "He  has 
broken  my  teeth,  Bluchka ;  and  yet  he  is  my  count, 
and  I  would  jump  into  the  fire  for  him,  that's  a  fact. 
Because  he's  my  count,  do  you  understand,  Bluchka? 
And  do  }'ou  want  something  to  eat?  " 

After  lying  there  a  while,  he  got  up,  gave  the  dog 
his  dinner,  and,  almost  sobered,  went  to  serve  his 
master,  and  get  him  his  tea. 

"You  would  simply  offend  me,"  said  the  cavalry- 
man timidly,  standing  in  front  of  the  count,  who  was 
lying  on  the  bed  with  his  feet  propped  against  the 
partition.     "  Now,  you  see,  I  am  an  old  soldier  and 


198  TWO  HUSSARS. 

comrade,  I  may  say ;  instead  of  letting  you  borrow  of 
any  one  else,  it  would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  let 
you  have  two  hundred  rubles.  I  haven't  them  with 
me  now,  —  only  a  hundred,  —  but  I  can  get  the  rest 
to-day ;  don't  refuse,  you  would  simply  offend  me, 
count!" 

M  Thanks,  little  father,"  said  Turbin,  instantly  per- 
ceiving what  sort  of  relationship  would  exist  between 
them,  and  slapping  the  cavalryman  on  the  shoulder. 
"  Thanks.  Well,  then,  we'll  go  to  the  ball  if  you  say 
so.  But  now  what  shall  we  do  ?  Tell  me  whom  you 
have  in  your  city :  any  pretty  girls  ?  anybody  ready 
for  a  spree?     Who  plays  cards?  " 

The  cavalryman  explained  that  there  would  be  a 
crowd  of  pretty  girls  at  the  ball ;  that  the  police  com- 
missioner,1 Kolkof,  who  had  just  been  re-elected,  was 
the  greatest  hand  for  sprees,  only  he  lacked  the  spirit 
of  a  genuine  hussar,  but  still  was  a  first-rate  fellow ; 
that  Ilyushka's  chorus  of  gypsies  had  been  singing  at 
K.  ever  since  the  elections  began  ;  that  Stioshka  ■  was 
the  soloist,  and  that  after  the  marshal's  reception 
everybody  went  there  nowadays.  And  the  stakes  were 
pretty  high.  tk  Lukhnof,  a  visitor  here,"  he  said,  "  is 
sweeping  in  the  money ;  and  Ilyin,  a  cornet  of  uhlans, 
who  rooms  in  No.  8,  has  already  lost  a  pile.  The  game 
has  already  begun  there.  They  play  there  every  even- 
ing ;  and  he's  a  wonderfully  fine  young  fellow,  I  tell 
you,  count,  this  Ilyin  is.  There's  nothing  mean  about 
him  —  he'd  give  you  his  last  shirt." 

u  Then  let  us  go  to  his  room.  We  will  see  what  sort 
of  men  you  have,"  said  the  count. 

"  Come  on  !  come  on  !  they  will  be  mighty  glad." 

1  isprdvnik. 

2  Diminutive  of  Stepanida,  Stephanie. 


TWO  IWSSAJiS.  199 


II. 


Ilyin,  the  cornet  of  uhlans,  had  not  long  been 
awake.  The  evening  before,  he  had  sat  down  at  the 
gambling-table  at  eight  o'clock,  and  lost  for  fifteen 
consecutive  hours,  till  eleven  o'clock  that  da}7.  He 
had  lost  a  great  amount,  but  exactly  how  much  he  did 
not  know,  because  he  had  had  three  thousand  rubles 
of  his  money,  and  .fifteen  thousand  belonging  to  the 
treasury,  which  he  had  long  ago  mixed  up  with  his 
own,  and  he  did  not  dare  to  settle  his  accounts  lest 
his  anticipations  that  he  had  made  too  great  inroads 
on  the  public  money  should  be  confirmed. 

He  went  to  sleep  about  noon,  and  slept  that  heavy, 
dreamless  sleep,  peculiar  to  very  young  men  who  have 
been  losing  heavily.  Waking  at  six,  about  the  time 
that  Count  Turbin  had  arrived  at  the  hotel,  and  seeing 
cards  and  chalk  and  soiled  tables  scattered  around  him 
in  confusion  in  the  room,  he  remembered  with  horror  the 
evening's  games,  and  the  last  card,  a  knave,  which  had 
lost  him  five  hundred  rubles ;  but,  still  scarcely  believ- 
ing in  the  realit}-,  he  drew  out  from  under  his  pillow 
his  money,  and  began  to  count  it.  He  recognized  a 
few  notes  which,  with  corners  turned  down  and  in- 
dorsements, had  gone  from  hand  to  hand  around  the 
table ;  he  remembered  all  the  particulars.  He  had 
lost  his  own  three  thousand  rubles,  and  twenty-five 
hundred  belonging  to  the  treasury  had  disappeared. 

The  uhlan  had  been  playing  for  four  nights  in 
succession. 


200  TWO   IWSSARS. 

He  bad  come  from  Moscow,  where  the  public  money 
had  been  intrusted  to  him.  At  K.  the  post-superin- 
tendent had  detained  him  under  the  pretext  that  there 
were  no  post-horses,  but  in  reality  in  accordance  with 
his  agreemeut  with  the  hotel-keeper  to  detain  all  visitors 
for  a  day. 

The  uhlan,  who  was  a  gay  young  fellow,  and  had 
just  received  from  his  parent  three  thousand  rubles  for 
his  military  equipment,  was  glad  to  spend  a  few  days 
in  the  city  of  K.  during  the  elections,  and  counted  on 
having  a  good  time. 

He  knew  a  landed  proprietor  whose  family  lived 
there,  and  he  was  preparing  to  call  upon  him  and  pay 
his  addresses  to  his  daughter,  when  the  cavalryman 
appeared,  and  made  his  acquaintance.  That  very  even- 
ing, without  malice  prepense,  he  took  him  down  into 
the  parlor,  and  introduced  him  to  his  friends,  Lukhnof 
and  several  other  gamblers.  From  that  time,  the 
uhlan  had  kept  steadily  at  gaming,  and  not  only  had 
not  called  on  the  proprietor,  but  had  not  thought  of 
inquiring  further  for  horses,  and  for  four  days  had  not 
left  his  room. 

After  he  had  dressed,  and  taken  his  tea,  he  went  to 
the  window.  He  felt  an  inclination  to  go  out  so  as 
to  dispel  the  importunate  recollections  of  the  game. 
He  put  on  his  cloak,  and  went  into  the  street. 

The  sun  had  just  sunk  behind  the  white  houses  with 
their  red  roofs.  It  was  already  twilight.  It  was 
warm.  The  snow  was  softly  falling  in  big,  damp 
flakes,  in  the  muddj'  streets.  His  mind  suddenly  be- 
came filled  with  unendurable  melancholy  at  the  thought 
that  he  had  spent  all  that  day  in  sleep,  and  now  the 
day  was  done. 

"  This  day  which  has  gone,  will  never  come  back 
again,"  he  said  to  himself. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  201 


(( 


I  have  wasted  my  youth,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed, 
not  because  he  really  felt  that  he  had  wasted  his  youth, 
—  he  did  not  think  about  it  at  all,  —  but  simply  this 
phrase  came  into  his  head. 

44  What  shall  I  do  now?"  he  reasoned  ;  "  borrow  of 
some  one,  and  go  away?  " 

A  lad}7  was  passing  along  the  sidewalk. 

"What  a  stupid  woman!"  he  said  to  himself  for 
some  reason. 

44  There's  no  one  I  can  borrow  of.  I  have  wasted 
my  youth." 

He  came  to  a  block  of  stores.  A  merchant  in  a 
fox-skin  shuba  was  standing  at  the  door  of  his  shop, 
and  inviting  custom. 

44  If  I  hadn't  taken  the  eight,  I  should  have  won." 

A  little  old  beggar-woman  followed  him,  snivelling. 

44 1  have  no  one  to  borrow  of." 

A  gentleman  in  a  bear-skin  shuba  passed  him.  A 
policeman  was  standing  on  the  corner. 

44  What  can  I  do  that  will  make  sensation?  Fire  a 
pistol  at  them?  No  !  That  would  be  stupid.  I  have 
wasted  my  youth.  Akh!  what  a  splendid  harness 
that  is  hanging  in  that  shop !  1  should  like  to  be 
riding  behind  a  troika !  .  .  .  Ekh !  you  fine  fellows  ! l 
I  am  going  back.  Lukhnof  will  be  there  pretty  soon, 
and  we'll  have  a  game." 

He  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  once  more  counted  his 
money.  No,  he  was  not  mistaken  the  first  time ; 
twenty-five  hundred  rubles  of  public  money  were 
missing,  just  as  before. 

44 1  will  put  up  twenty-five  rubles  first;  the  next 
time,  a  quarter  stake ;  then  on  seven,  on  fifteen,  on 
thirty,  and  on  sixty  .   .   .  three  thousand.     I  will  buy 

1  golubchiki,  little  pigeons. 


202  TWO  TWSSARS. 

that  harness,  and  start.  He  won't  give  me  any  odds, 
the  villaiu  !     I  have  wasted  my  youth  !  " 

This  was  what  was.  passing  through  the  uhlan's 
mind  just  as  Lukhnof  himself  came  into  the  room. 

"  Well,  have  you  been  up  long,  Mikhailo  Vasil- 
yitch?  "  inquired  Lukhnof,  deliberately  removing  from 
his  thin  nose  his  gold  eye-glasses,  and  carefully  wiping 
them  with  a  red  silk  handkerchief. 

"No,  only  just  this  minute.  I  had  a  splendid 
sleep !  " 

11  A  new  hussar  has  just  come.  He  is  staying  with 
Zavalshevsky.     Had  you  heard  about  it?  " 

M  No,  I  hadn't.  Well,  no  one  seems  to  be  here 
yet.  I  believe  they  have  gone  to  call  on  Priakhin. 
They'll  be  here  very  soon." 

In  fact,  in  a  short  time  there  came  into  the  room 
an  officer  of  the  garrison,  who  was  always  hovering 
round  Lukhnof ;  a  Greek  merchant  with  a  huge  hooked 
nose,  cinnamon  complexion,  and  deep-set  black  eyes  ;  a 
stout,  puffy  proprietor,  a  brandy-distiller  who  gambled 
all  night  long,  and  always  made  his  stakes  on  the  basis 
of  half  a  ruble.  All  of  these  wished  to  begin  playing 
as  promptly  as  possible,  but  the  more  daring  players 
said  nothing  about  it;  Lukhnof,  in  particular,  with 
perfect  equanimity,  told  stories  of  rascality  in  Moscow. 

"Just  think  of  it,"  said  he,  "  Moscow,  the  metrop- 
olis, the  capital ;  and  there  they  go  out  at  night  with 
crooks,  dressed  like  demons ;  and  the}'  scare  the  stupid 
people,  and  rob  pedestrians,  and  that  is  the  end  of  it. 
Do  the  police  notice  it?     No  !     It  is  astonishing !  " 

The  uhlan  listened  attentively  to  the  tales  of  these 
highwaymen,  but  finally  got  up  aud  unobtrusively 
ordered  cards  to  be  brought.  The  stout  proprietor 
was  the  first  to  notice  it. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  203 

"Well,  gentlemen,  we  are  wasting  golden  moments. 
To  work,  let  us  to  work  !  " 

"  Yes,  you  won  by  the  half -ruble  last  evening,  and 
so  you  like  it,"  exclaimed  the  Greek. 

"It's  a  good  time  to  begin,"  said  the  garrison 
officer. 

Ilyin  looked  at  Lukhnof.  Lukhnof,  returning  his 
gaze,  went  on  calmly  with  his  story  of  the  robbers 
who  dressed  themselves  up  like  devils.  "Will  you 
start  the  bank?  "  asked  the  uhlan. 

"  Isn't  it  rather  early?  " 

"Byelof!"  cried  the  uhlan,  reddening  for  some 
reason  or  other;  "bring  me  something  to  eat.  .  .  . 
I  haven't  had  any  dinner  to-day,  gentlemen.  Bring 
some  champagne,  and  distribute  the  cards." 

A  this  moment,  the  count  and  Zavalshevsky  entered. 
It  proved  that  Turbin  and  Ilyin  were  in  the  same 
division.  They  immediately  struck  up  an  acquaint- 
ance, drank  a  glass  of  champagne,  clinking  their 
glasses  together,  and  in  five  minutes  were  calling  each 
other  "thou." 

It  was  evident  that  Ilyin  made  a  very  pleasant  im- 
pression on  the  count.  The  count  smiled  whenever 
he  looked  at  him,  and  was  amused  at  his  freshness. 

"What  a  fine  young  uhlan!"  he  said,  "what  a 
mustache  !  what  a  splendid  mustache  !  " 

Ilyin 's  upper  lip  bore  the  first  down  of  a  mustache, 
that  was  as  yet  almost  white. 

"  You  were  preparing  to  play,  were  you  not?  "  asked 
the  count.  "Well,  I  should  like  to  win  from  you, 
Ilyin.  I  think  that  you  must  be  a  master,"  he  added 
smiling. 

"Yes,  we  were  just  starting  in,"  replied  Lukhnof, 
opening  a  pack  of  cards.  .  .  .  '*  Aren't  you  going  to 
join  us,  count?  " 


204  TWO  HUSSARS. 

"  No,  I  won't  to-night.  If  I  did  there  wouldn't  be 
any  thing  left  of  an}'  of  you  !  When  I  take  a  hand  I 
always  break  the  bank.  But  I  haven't  any  money  just 
now.  I  lost  at  Volotchok,  at  the  station-house.  It  was 
by  some  sort  of  infantry-man  who  wore  rings ;  what 
a  cheat  he  was !  and  he  cleaned  me  out  completely." 

itr  Were  you  long  there  at  the  station?  "  asked  Ilyin. 

44  I  staid  there  twenty-two  hours.  I  shall  not  forget 
that  station,  curse  it!  and  the  superintendent  won't 
forget  it  either." 

41  Why?" 

44 1  got  there,  you  see ;  the  superintendent  comes 
out,  rascally  face,  the  liar !  4  There  are  no  horses,'  said 
he.  Well,  now  I  must  tell  you,  I  have  made  a  rule  in 
such  cases :  when  there  are  no  horses,  I  keep  on  my 
shuba,  aud  go  straight  to  the  superintendent's  room,  — 
not  the  waiting-room,  mind  you,  but  the  superintend- 
ent's own  room, — and  I  have  all  the  windows  and 
doors  opened,  as  though  it  were  stifling.  Well,  that's 
what  I  did  here.  Cold  !  you  remember  how  cold  it  has 
been  this  last  month ;  twenty  degrees  below.  The 
superintendent  began  to  remonstrate.  I  knock  his 
teeth  in  for  him.  There  was  some  old  woman  there  ; 
and  some  young  girls  and  peasant-women1  set  up  a 
piping,  were  going  to  seize  their  pots  and  fly  to  the 
village.  .  .  .  I  go  to  the  door,  and  say,  '  Let  me  have 
horses,  and  I'll  go  away :  if  you  don't,  I  won't  let  you 
out,  I'll  freeze  you  all  to  death.'  " 

44  What  an  admirable  way  !  "  said  the  puffy  proprie- 
tor, bursting  out  into  a  laugh.  44  That's  the  way  one 
would  freeze  out  cockroaches." 

44  But  I  wasn't  sufficiently  on  my  guard:  the  super- 
intendent and  all  his  women  managed  to  get  out  and 

1  babas. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  205 

run  away.  Only  the  old  woman  remained  on  the  oven 
as  my  hostage.  She  kept  sniffing,  and  offering  prayers 
to  God.  Then  we  entered  into  negotiations.  The 
superintendent  came  back,  and,  standing  at  a  distance, 
tried  to  persuade  me  to  let  the  old  woman  go.  But  I 
set  Bliicher  on  him :  Blucher  is  a  magnificent  dog  to 
take  care  of  superintendents.  Even  then  the  rascal 
did  not  let  me  have  horses  till  the  next  morning.  And 
then  came  along  that  footpad !  I  went  into  the  next 
room,  and  began  to  play.  Have  you  seen  Blucher?  — 
Blucher !  Fiu  I ' '  Blucher  came  running  in.  The 
players  received  him  with  flattering  attention,  although 
it  was  evident  that  they  were  anxious  to  get  to  work  at 
entirely  different  matters. 

"  By  the  way,  gentlemen,  why  don't  you  begin  your 
game?  I  beg  of  you,  don't  let  me  interfere  with  you. 
You  see  I  am  a  chatterbox,"  said  Turbin.  "  Whether 
you  love  or  not,  'tis  an  excellent  thing." 


206  TWO  HUSSARS. 


III. 


Lukhnof  took  two  candles,  brought  out  a  huge  dark- 
colored  pocket-book  full  of  money  ;  slowly,  as  though 
performing  some  sacrament,  opened  it  on  the  table ; 
took  out  two  one-huudred-ruble  notes,  and  laid  them  on 
the  cards. 

44  There,  just  the  same  as  last  evening ;  the  bank 
begins  with  two  hundred,"  said  he,  adjusting  his 
glasses,  and  opening  a  pack  of  cards. 

"Very  well,"  said  Uyin,  not  glancing  at  him,  or 
interrupting  his  conversation  withTurbin. 

The  game  began.  Lukhnof  kept  the  bank  with 
mechanical  regularity,  occasionally  pausing,  and  de- 
liberately making  notes,  or  looking  sternty  over  his 
glasses,  and  saying  in  a  weak  voice,  44  Throw." 

The  stout  proprietor  talked  louder  than  the  rest, 
making  various  calculations  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
while  he  wet  his  clumsy  fingers  and  dog-eared  his  cards. 

The  garrison  officer  silently  wrote  in  a  fine  hand  his 
account  on  a  card,  turned  down  small  corners,  pressing 
them  against  the  table. 

The  Greek  sat  next  the  banker,  attentively  following 
the  game  with  his  deep  black  eyes,  as  though  waiting 
for  something. 

Zavalshevsky,  as  he  stood  by  the  table,  would  sud- 
denly become  all  of  a  tremble,  draw  from  his  trousers- 
pocket  a  blue  note  or  a  red,1  lay  a  card  on  it,  pound  on 

1  Five  or  ten  rubles. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  207 

it  with  his  palm,  and  say,  "  Bring  me  luck,  little 
seven  !  "  then  he  would  bite  his  mustache,  change  from 
one  leg  to  the  other,  and  be  in  a  continual  state  of 
excitement  until  the  card  came  out. 

Ilyin,  who  had  been  eating  veal  and  cucumbers  placed 
near  him  on  the  haircloth  sofa,  briskly  wiped  his  hands 
on  his  coat,  and  began  to  put  down  one  card  after 
another. 

Turbin,  who  had  taken  his  seat  at  first  on  the  sofa, 
immediately  noticed  that  something  was  wrong.  Lukh- 
nof  did  not  look  at  the  uhlan,  or  say  any  thing  to  him  ; 
but  occasionally  his  eyes  for  an  instant  rested  on  the 
uhlan's  hands.     The  most  of  his  cards  lost. 

tfc  If  I  could  only  trump  that  little  card,"  exclaimed 
Lukhnof  in  reference  to  one  of  the  stout  proprietor's 
cards.     He  was  still  making  half-ruble  wagers. 

"  Trump  Ilyin's  instead:  what  would  be  the  use  of 
trumping  mine?  "  replied  the  proprietor. 

And,  in  point  of  fact,  Ilyin's  cards  were  trumped 
oftener  than  the  others'.  He  nervously  tore  up  his 
losing  card  under  the  table,  and  with  trembling  hands 
chose  another. 

Turbin  arose  from  the  sofa,  and  asked  the  Greek  to 
give  him  his  place  next  the  banker.  The  Greek 
changed  places ;  and  the  count,  taking  his  chair,  and 
not  moving  his  eyes,  began  to  watch  Lukhnof's  hands 
attentively. 

"  Ilyin,"  said  he  suddenly  in  his  ordinary  voice, 
which,  entirely  contrary  to  his  desire,  drowned  out 
the  others,  "  why  do  you  stick  to  those  routine  cards? 
You  don't  know  how  to  play !  " 

"  Supposing  I  don't,  it's  all  the  same." 

"  You'll  lose  that  way  surely.  Let  me  play  against 
the  bank  for  you." 


208  TWO  HUSSARS. 

44  No,  excuse  me,  I  beg  of  you.  I'm  always  this 
way.     Play  for  yourself  if  you  like." 

41 1  have  told  you  that  I  am  not  going  to  play.  But 
I  should  like  to  play  for  you.  I  hate  to  see  you  losing 
so." 

44  Ah,  well !  you  see  it's  my  luck." 

The  count  said  nothing  more,  and  leaning  on  his 
elbow  began  once  more  to  watch  the  banker's  hand 
just  as  attentively  as  before. 

44  Shameful!"  he  suddenly  cried  in  a  loud  voice, 
dwelling  on  the  word. 

Lukhnof  glared  at  him. 

u  Shameful,  shameful !  "  he  repeated  still  louder, 
staring  straight  into  Lukhnof 's  eyes. 

The  game  continued. 

44  That  is  not  right !"  said  Turbin  again,  as  Lukhnof 
trumped  one  of  Ilyin's  high  cards. 

44  What  displeases  you,  count?"  politely  asked  the 
banker  with  an  air  of  indifference. 

44  Because  you  give  Ilyin  a  simplum,  and  turn  down 
your  corners.     That's  what  is  shameful !  " 

Lukhnof  made  a  slight  motion  with  his  shoulders 
and  brows,  signifying  that  he  was  resigned  to  any 
fate,  and  then  he  went  on  with  the  game. 

44  Bliicher,  fiu!"  cried  the  count,  rising;  44  over 
with  him ! "  he  added  quickly.  Bliicher,  bumping 
against  the  sofa  with  his  back,  and  almost  knocking 
the  garrison  officer  from  his  feet,  came  leaping  toward 
his  master,  looking  at  every  one  and  wagging  his  tail 
as  though  he  would  ask,  44  Who  is  misbehaving  here, 
hey?" 

Lukhnof  laid  down  the  cards,  and  moved  his  chair 
away.  44  This  is  no  way  to  play,"  said  he.  44 1  detest 
dogs.  What  kind  of  a  game  can  you  have  if  a  whole 
pack  of  hounds  is  to  be  brought  in?  " 


TWO  HUSSARS.  209 

"  Especially  that  kind  of  dog  :  they  are  called  blood- 
suckers, if  I  am  not  mistaken,"  suggested  the  garrison 
officer. 

"  Well,  are  we  to  play  or  not,  Mikhiii'lo  Vasilyitch  ?  " 
asked  Lukhnof,  addressing  the  uhlan. 

"  Don't  bother  us,  count,  I  beg  of  you,"  said  Ilyin, 
turning  to  Turbin. 

"  Come  here  for  a  moment,"  said  Turbin,  taking 
Ilyin's  arm,  and  drawing  him  into  the  next  room. 

There  the  count's  words*  were  perfectly  audible, 
though  he  spoke  in  his  ordinary  tone.  But  his  voice 
was  so  powerful  that  it  could  always  be  heard  three 
rooms  off. 

"  Are  you  beside  yourself?  Don't  you  see  that  that 
man  with  the  glasses  is  a  cheat  of  the  worst  order?  " 

"  Hey?     Nonsense  !     Be  careful  what  you  say." 

"  No  nonsense  !  but  quit  it,  I  tell  you.  It  makes  no 
difference  to  me.  Another  time  I  myself  would  have 
plucked  you  ;  but  now  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  ruining 
yourself.     Have  you  any  public  money  left?  " 

M  No.     What  makes  you  think  so  about  him?  " 

"Brother,  I  have  been  over  this  same  road,  and  I 
know  the  ways  of  these  professional  gamblers.  I  tell 
you  that  the  man  in  the  glasses  is  a  cheat.  Quit, 
please.     I  ask  you  as  a  comrade." 

"  All  right ;  I'll  have  just  one  more  hand,  and  then 
have  done  with  it." 

"I  know  what  that  'one  more'  means:  very  well, 
we  will  see." 

They  returned  to  the  gaming-table.  In  one  deal  he 
laid  down  so  many  cards,  and  they  were  trumped  so 
badly,  that  he  lost  a  large  amount. 

Turbin  rested  his  hand  in  the  middle  of  the  table, 
and  said,  "  That's  enough  !  now  let  us  be  going." 


210  TWO  HUSSARS. 

44  No,  I  can't  go  yet;  leave  me,  please,"  said  Ilyin 
in  vexation,  shuttling  the  bent  cards  and  not  looking 
at  Turbin. 

44  All  right !  the  Devil  be  with  you  !  Lose  all  you've 
got,  if  that  please  you  ;  but  it's  time  for  me  to  be 
going.  — Come,  Zavalshevsky,  let  us  go  to  the  mar- 
shal's.'' 

And  they  went  out.  No  one  spoke,  and  Lukhnof 
did  not  make  the  bank  until  the  noise  of  their  feet  and 
of  Bliicher's  paws  had  died  away  down  the  corridor. 

44  That's  a  madcap,"  said  the  proprietor,  smiling. 

44  Well,  now  he  won't  bother  us  any  more,"  said  the 
garrison  officer  in  a  hurried  whisper. 

And  the  game  went  on. 


TWO  EUSSARS.  211 


IV. 


The  band,  composed  of  the  marshal's  domestic 
serfs,  were  stationed  in  the  butler's  pantry,  which  had 
been  put  in  order  on  account  of  the  ball,  and,  having 
turned  up  the  sleeves  of  their  coats,  had  begun  at  the 
signal  of  their  leader  to  play  the  ancient  polonaise 
44  Aleksandr,  Yelisavieta ;  "  and  under  the  soft,  brilliant 
light  of  the  wax  candles,  the  couples  began  to  move  in 
tripping  measure  through  the  great  ballroom  ;  a  gov- 
ernor-general of  Catherine's  time,  with  a  star,  taking 
out  the  gaunt  wife  of  the  marshal,  the  marshal  with 
the  governor's  wife,  and  so  on  through  all  the  hier- 
archy of  the  government  in  various  combinations  and 
variations, —  when  Zavalshevsky'in  a  blue  coat  with  a 
huge  collar,  and  epaulets  on  his  shoulders,  and  wearing 
stockings  and  pumps,  and  exhaling  about  him  an  odor 
of  jasmine  with  which  he  had  plentifully  drenched  his 
mustaches,  the  facings  of  his  coat,  and  his  handker- 
chief, entered  with  the  handsome  count,  who  wore 
tight-fitting  blue  trousers  and  a  red  pelisse  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  wearing  on  his  breast  the  cross  of 
Vladimir  and  a  medal  of  1812. 

The  count  was  of  medium  height,  but  had  an  ex- 
tremely handsome  figure.  His  clear  blue  eyes  of 
remarkable  brilliancy,  and  dark  hair  which  was  rather 
long  and  fell  in  thick  ringlets,  gave  his  beauty  a 
peculiar  character. 

The  count's  presence  at  the  ball  was  not  unexpected. 


212  TWO   HUSSARS. 

The  handsome  young  man  who  had  seen  him  at  the 
hotel  had  already  spoken  of  him  to  the  marshal. 

The  impressions  made  by  this  announcement  were 
of  various  kinds,  but  on  the  whole  were  not  altogether 
pleasant. 

11 1  suppose  this  young  man  will  turn  us  into  ridi- 
cule," was  what  the  old  women  and  the  men  said  to 
themselves. 

44  Suppose  he  should  run  off  with  me,"  was  what 
the  wives  and  young  ladies  thought,  with  more  or  less 
apprehension. 

As  soon  as  the  polonaise  was  finished,  and  the 
couples  had  made  each  other  low  bows,  once  more 
the  women  formed  little  groups  by  themselves,  and  the 
men  by  themselves.  Zavalshevsky,  proud  and  happy, 
led  the  count  up  to  the  hostess. 

The  marshal's  wife,  conscious  of  a  certain  inward 
trepidation  lest  this  hussar  should  make  her  the  cause 
of  some  scandal  before  everybody,  said  proudly  and 
scornfully,  as  she  turned  away,  "  Very  glad  to  see 
you.  I  hope  that  you  will  dance."  And  then  she 
looked  at  the  count  mistrustfully  with  an  expression 
that  seemed  to  say,  "Now,  if  you  insult  any  woman, 
then  you  are  a  perfect  scoundrel  after  this." 

The  count,  however,  quickly  overcame  this  prejudice 
by  his  amiability,  his  politeness,  and  his  handsome 
jovial  appearance ;  so  that  in  five  minutes  the  expres- 
sion on  the  face  of  the  marshal's  wife  plainly  declared 
to  all  who  stood  around  her,  u  I  know  how  to  manage 
all  these  men.  He  immediately  realized  whom  he  was 
talking  with.  And  now  he  will  be  charming  to  me  all 
the  rest  of  the  evening." 

Moreover,  just  then  the  governor,  who  had  known 
his  father,  came  up  to  the  count,  and  very  graciously 


TWO  HUSSARS.  213 

drew  him  to  one  side,  and  entered  into  conversation 
with  him,  which  still  more  pleased  the  fashionable 
society  of  the  town,  and  raised  the  count  in  their 
estimation. 

Then  Zavalshevsky  presented  the  count  to  his  sister, 
a  plump  young  widow,  who,  ever  since  the  count 
entered  the  room,  had  kept  her  big  black  eyes  fastened 
upon  him. 

The  count  asked  the  little  widow  for  the  waltz  which 
at  that  moment  the  musicians  had  struck  up,  and  it 
was  his  artistic  dancing  that  conquered  the  last  vestiges 
of  the  popular  prejudice. 

"  Ah,  he's  a  master  at  dancing  !  "  said  a  stout  lady, 
following  the  legs  in  blue  trousers  which  were  flash- 
ing through  the  ballroom,  and  mentally  counting, 
"One,  two,  three;  one,  two,  three, — he's  a  master." 

"How  gracefully  he  moves  his  feet!  how  grace- 
fully! "  said  another  guest,  who  did  not  stand  very 
high  in  the  governmental  society.  ' '  How  does  he 
manage  to  not  hit  anyone  with  his  spurs?  Wonderful, 
very  skilful ! ' ' 

The  count,  by  his  skill  in  dancing,  eclipsed  the  three 
best  dancers  of  the  city.  These  were,  a  governor's  aide, 
a  tall  albino,  who  was  famous  for  his  rapid  dancing 
and  because  he  held  the  lady  pressed  very  close  to  his 
breast ;  secondl}',  the  cavahyman,  who  was  famous 
for  his  graceful  swaying  during  the  waltz,  and  for  his 
frequent  but  light  tapping  witli  his  heels  ;  and  thirdly, 
a  civilian  of  whom  everybody  said,  that,  though  he 
was  not  very  strong-minded,  yet  he  was  an  admirable 
dancer  and  the  life  of  all  balls. 

In  point  of  fact,  this  civilian  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end  of  a  ball  invariably  invited  all  the  ladies  in 
the  order  in  which  they  sat,  did  not  cease  for  a  moment 


214  TWO   nUSSARS. 

to  dance,  and  only  occasionally  paused  to  wipe  his 
weary  but  still  radiant  face  with  his  cambric  handker- 
chief, which  would  become  wet  through. 

The  count  had  surpassed  them  all,  and  had  danced 
with  the  three  principal  ladies,  —  with  the  stout  one, 
who  was  rich,  handsome,  and  stupid  ;  with  the  middle- 
sized  one,  who  was  lean,  and  not  particularly  good- 
looking,  but  handsomely  dressed ;  and  with  the  little 
one,  who  was  not  pretty,  but  very  witty. 

He  had  danced  also  with  others,  —  with  all  the 
pretty  women,  and  there  were  many  pretty  women 
there. 

But  the  little  widow,  Zavalshevsky's  sister,  pleased 
the  count  more  than  all  the  rest ;  with  her  he  danced 
a  quadrille  and  a  schottische  and  a  mazurka. 

At  first,  when  they  took  their  places  for  the  quadrille, 
he  overwhelmed  her  with  compliments,  comparing  her 
to  Venus  and  Diana,  and  to  a  rosebush,  and  to  some 
other  flower  besides. 

To  all  these  amenities  the  little  widow  only  bent  her 
white  neck,  modestly  dropped  her  eyes,  and,  looking 
at  her  white  muslin  dress,  changed  her  fan  from  one 
hand  to  the  other. 

When,  at  last,  she  said,  "  This  is  too  much,  count; 
3rou  are  jesting,"  etc.,  her  voice,  which  was  rather 
guttural,  betrayed  such  naive  simplicity  of  heart  and 
amusing  naturalness  that  the  count,  as  he  looked  at 
her,  actually  compared  her,  not  to  a  flower  or  to  a 
rosebush,  but  to  some  kind  of  a  pinkish-white  wild- 
flower,  exuberant  and  odorless,  growing  alone  on  a 
virgin  snow-drift  in  some  far,  far-distant  land. 

Such  a  strange  impression  was  made  upon  the  count 
by  this  union  of  naivete  and  unconventionality  together 
with  fresh  beauty,  that  several  times,  in  the  pauses  of 


TWO  HUSSARS.  215 

the  conversation,  when  he  looked  silently  into  her  eyes 
or  contemplated  the  loveliness  of  her  arms  and  neck, 
the  desire  came  over  him  with  such  vehemence  to  take 
her  into  his  arms  and  kiss  her  again  and  again,  that 
he  was  really  obliged  to  restrain  himself. 

The  little  widow  was  quite  satisfied  with  the  impres- 
sion which  she  perceived  that  she  had  made ;  but  there 
was  something  in  the  count's  behavior  that  began  to 
disquiet  her,  and  fill  her  with  apprehensions,  though 
the  young  hussar  was  not  only  flatteringly  amiable, 
but  even,  to  an  extravagant  degree,  deferential  in  his 
treatment  of  her. 

He  ran  to  get  orgeat  for  her,  picked  up  her  handker- 
chief, snatched  a  chair  from  the  hands  of  a  scrofulous 
young  proprietor,  who  was  also  anxious  to  pay  her 
attention,  and  who  was  not  quick  enough.  But  per- 
ceiving that  these  assiduities,  which  were  fashionable  at 
that  period,  had  little  effect  in  making  the  lady  well- 
disposed,  he  began  to  amuse  her  by  telling  her  ridicu- 
lous anecdotes  :  he  assured  her  that  he  was  ready  at  a 
moment's  notice  to  stand  on  his  head,  or  to  crow  like 
a  cock,  or  to  jump  out  of  the  window,  or  to  fling  himself 
into  a  hole  in  the  ice. 

This  procedure  was  a  brilliant  success :  the  little 
widow  became  very  ga}* ;  she  rippled  with  laughter, 
displaying  her  marvellous  white  teeth,  and  became  en- 
tirely satisfied  with  her  cavalier.  The  count  each 
moment  grew  more  and  more  enchanted  with  her,  so 
that  at  the  end  of  the  quadrille  he  was  really  in  love 
with  her. 

After  the  quadrille,  when  she  was  approached  by 
her  former  admirer^ a  young  man  of  eighteen,  the  son 
of  a  very  rich  proprietor,  the  same  scrofulous  young 
.man  from  whom  Turbin  had  snatched  away  the  chair, 


216  TWO  HUSSARS. 

she  received  him  with  perfect  coolness,  and  not  one- 
U'nth  part  of  the  constraint  was  noticeable  in  her 
which  she  felt  when  she  was  with  the  count. 

41  You  are  very  kind,"  she  said,  all  the  time  gazing 
at  Tnrbin's  back,  and  unconsciously  reckoning  how 
many  yards1  of  gold-lace  were  used  for  his  whole 
jacket.  "  You  are  very  kind ;  you  promised  to  come 
to  take  me  for  a  walk,  and  to  bring  me  some  com- 
fits." 

44  Well,  I  did  come,  Anna  Fedorovna,  but  you 
weren't  at  home,  and  I  left  the  very  best  comfits 
for  you,"  said  the  young  man,  in  a  voice  that  was 
very  thin,  considering  his  height. 

44  You  always  are  provided  with  excuses;  I  don't 
need  your  comfits.     Please  do  not  think"  .  .  . 

44 1  begin  to  see,  Anna  Fedorovna,  how  you  have 
changed  toward  me,  and  I  know  why.  But  it  is  not 
right,"  he  added,  but  without  finishing  his  remark, 
evidently  owing  to  some  powerful  interior  emotion, 
which  caused  his  lips  to  tremble  strangely. 

Anna  Fedorovna  did  not  heed  him,  and  continued  to 
follow  Turbin  with  her  eyes.  The  marshal,  at  whose 
house  the  ball  was  given,  —  a  big,  stout  old  man,  who 
had  lost  his  teeth,  —  came  up  to  the  count,  and,  taking 
him  by  the  arm,  invited  him  into  his  library  to  smoke 
and  drink  if  he  so  desired. 

As  soon  as  Turbin  disappeared,  Anna  Fedorovna 
felt  that  there  was  absolutely  nothing  for  her  to  do  in 
the  ballroom,  and  slipping  her  hand  through  the  arm 
of  a  dried-up  old  maid,  who  was  a  friend  of  hers,  went 
with  her  into  the  dressing-room. 

44  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him?  Is  he  nice?" 
asked  the  old  maid. 

1  arnhitis. 


TWO  IWSSARS.  217 

"  Only  it's  terrible  —  the  way  he  follows  jtou  up  !  " 
said  Anna  Fedorovna,  going  to  the  mirror,  and  con- 
templating herself  in  it. 

Her  face  was  aglow,  her  eyes  were  full  of  mischief, 
her  color  was  heightened  ;  then  suddenly  imitating  one 
of  the  ballet-dancers  whom  she  had  seen  during  elec- 
tion time,  she  pirouetted  round  on  one  toe,  and,  laughing 
her  guttural  but  sweet  laugh,  she  leaped  up  in  the  air, 
crossing  her  knees. 

' '  What  a  man  he  is !  he  even  asked  me  for  a  sou- 
venir," she  confided  to  her  friend.  "  But  he  will 
ne-e-vergetone,"  she  said,  singing  the  last  words,  and 
lifting  one  finger  in  the  lilac-colored  glove  that  reached 
to  her  elbow. 

In  the  library  where  Turbin  was  conducted  by  the 
marshal,  stood  various  kinds  of  vodka,  liqueurs,  edi- 
bles,1 and  champagne.  In  a  cloud  of  tobacco-smoke 
the  nobility  were  sitting,  or  walking  up  and  down, 
talking  about  the  elections. 

"  When  the  whole  of  the  high  nobility  of  our  district 
has  honored  him  with  an  election,"  exclaimed  the 
newly  elected  ispravnik  who  was  already  tolerably 
tipsy,  "he  certainly  ought  not  to  fail  in  his  duties 
toward  society  in  general." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  count's 
coming.  All  were  presented  to  him,  and  the  isprav- 
nik especially  pressed  his  hand  long  between  both  of 
his,  and  asked  him  several  times  to  go  with  him  after 
the  ball  to  the  new  tavern,  where  he  would  treat  the 
gentlemen  of  the  nobility,  and  where  they  would  hear 
the  gypsies  sing. 

The  count  accepted  his  invitation,  and  drank  with 
him  several  glasses  of  champagne. 

1  zakuski. 


218  TWO  HUSSARS. 

"Why  aren't  you  dancing,  gentlemen?"  he  asked, 
as  he  was  about  to  leave  the  library. 

"We  aren't  dancers,"  replied  the  ispr&vnik,  laugh- 
ing. "  We  prefer  the  wine,  count;  and  besides,  all 
these  young  ladies  have  grown  up  under  ray  eyes, 
count.  But  still,  I  do  sometimes  take  part  in  a  schot- 
tische,  count.     I  can  do  it,  count." 

11  Come  on  then  for  a  while,"  said  Turbin.  "  Let 
us  have  some  sport  before  we  go  to  the  gypsies." 

"What  say  j-ou,  gentlemen?  Let  us  come!  Let 
us  delight  our  host!  " 

And  the  three  gentlemen  who,  since  the  beginning  of 
the  ball,  had  been  drinking  In  the  library  and  had  very 
red  faces,  began  to  draw  on  their  gloves,  some  of  black 
kid,  another  of  knit  silk,  and  were  just  going  with  the 
count  to  the  ballroom,  when  they  were  detained  by 
the  scrofulous  young  man,  who,  pale  as  a  sheet,  and 
scarcely  able  to  refrain  from  tears,  came  straight  up  to 
Turbin. 

"You  have  an  idea,  because  you  are  a  count,  you 
can  run  into  people  as  if  you  were  at  a  fair,"  said  he, 
with  difficulty  drawing  his  breath;  "  hence  it  isn't 
fitting"  — 

Once  more  the  stream  of  his  speech  was  interrupted 
by  the  involuntary  trembling  of  his  lips. 

"  What?  "  cried  Turbin,  frowning  suddenly,  "  what? 
.  .  .  You're  a  baby,"  he  cried,  seizing  him  by  the 
arm,  and  squeezing  it  so  that  the  blood  rushed  to  the 
young  man's  head,  not  so  much  from  vexation  as  from 
fright.  "What  is  it?  Do  you  want  to  fight?  If  so, 
I  am  at  your  service." 

Turbin  had  scarcely  let  go  of  his  arm,  which  he  had 
squeezed  so  powerfully,  when  two  nobles  seized  the 
young  man  by  the  sleeve,  and  carried  him  off  through 
a  back  door. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  219 

"What!  have  you  lost  your  wits?  You've  surely 
been  drinking  too  much.  We  shall  have  to  tell  your 
papa.     What's  the  matter  with  you?  "  they  asked. 

"  No,  I  haven't  been  drinking  ;  but  he  ran  into  me, 
and  did  not  apologize.  He's  a  hog,  that's  what  he 
is,"  whined  the  young  man,  now  actually  in  tears. 

Nevertheless  they  paid  no  attention  to  him,  but 
carried  him  off  home. 

"Never  mind,  count,"  said  the  ispravnik  and  Za- 
valshevsky  assuringly.  "He's  a  mere  child.  They 
still  whip  him  :  he's  onl}-  sixteen  years  old.  It's  hard 
to  tell  what  is  to  be  done  with  him.  Wrhat  fly  stung 
him  ?  And  his  father  is  such  an  honorable  man  !  He's 
our  candidate." 

"  Well,  the  Devil  take  him  if  he  refuses  "... 

And  the  count  returned  to  the  ballroom,  and,  as 
gayly  as  before,  danced  the  schottische  with  the  pretty 
little  widow,  and  laughed  heartily  when  he  saw  the 
antics  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  come  with  him  out 
of  the  library.  There  was  a  general  burst  of  merri- 
ment all  through  the  ballroom  when  the  ispravnik 
tripped,  and  measured  his  length  on  the  floor  in  the 
midst  of  the  dancers. 


220  TWO  HUSSARS. 


Anna  Fedokovna,  while  the  count  was  in  the  library, 
went  to  her  brother,  and,  for  the  very  reason  of  her 
conviction  that  she  ought  to  pretend  to  feel  very  little 
interest  in  the  count,  she  began  to  question  him. 

u  Who  is  this  hussar  that  has  been  dancing  with  me? 
Tell  me,  brother." 

The  cavalryman  explained,  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
what  a  great  man  this  hussar  was,  and  in  addition  he 
told  his  sister  that  the  count  had  stopped  there  simply 
because  his  money  had  been  stolen  on  the  route :  he 
himself  had  loaned  him  a  hundred  rubles,  but  that  was 
not  enough.  Couldn't  his  sister  let  him  have  two  hun- 
dred more?  Zavalshevsky  asked  her  not  to  sa}r  any 
thing  about  this  to  any  one,  and,  above  all,  not  to  the 
count. 

Anna  Fedorovna  promised  to  send  the  money  the 
next  day,  and  to  keep  it  a  secret ;  but  somehow  or 
other,  during  the  schottische,  she  had  a  terrible  desire 
to  offer  the  count  as  much  money  as  he  needed. 

She  deliberated,  blushed,  and  at  last,  mastering  her 
confusion,  thus  addressed  herself  to  the  task  :  — 

"  My  brother  told  me,  count,  that  you  had  met  with 
a  misfortune  on  the  road,  and  hadn't  any  money. 
Now,  if  you  need  some,  wouldn't  3-011  take  some  of  me? 
I  should  be  terribly  glad." 

But  after  she  had  thus  spoken,  Anna  Fedorovna 
suddenly  was  overcome  with  fright,  and  blushed.     All 


TWO  HUSSARS.  221 

the  gayety  had  instantly  vanished  from  the  count's 
face. 

"  Your  brother  is  a  fool !  "  said  he  in  a  cutting  tone. 
"  You  know,  when  a  man  insults  a  man,  then  the}'  fight 
a  duel ;  but  when  a  woman  insults  a  man,  then  what  do 
they  do?     Do  you  know?  " 

Poor  Anna  Fedorovna  blushed  to  her  ears  with  con- 
fusion.    She  dropped  her  eyes,  and  made  no  reply. 

"They  kiss  the  woman  in  public,"  said  the  count 
softly,  bending  over  to  whisper  in  her  ear.  "Permit 
me,  however,  to  kiss  your  little  hand,"  he  added 
almost  inaudibly,  after  a  long  silence,  having  some 
pity  on  his  lady's  confusion. 

"  Ah  !  only  not  quite  yet,"  urged  Anna  Fedorovna, 
with  a  deep  sigh. 

"But  when,  then?  To-morrow  I  am  going  away 
early.  .   .   .  But  realty,  you  owe  it  to  me." 

".Well,  then,  of  course  it  is  impossible,"  said  Anna 
Fedorovna  smiling. 

"  Only  give  me  a  chance  to  see  you  before  to-mor- 
row, so  that  I  may  kiss  your  hand.     I  will  find  one." 

"How  will  you  find  one?  " 

"That  is  my  affair.  I  can  do  any  thing  to  see 
you.   ...  Is  it  agreed?" 

"Agreed." 

The  schottische  came  to  an  end;  they  danced 
through  the  mazurka,  and  in  it  the  count  did  mar- 
vels, purloining  handkerchiefs,  bending  on  one  knee, 
and  clinking  his  spurs  in  an  extraordinary  manner, 
after  the  Warsaw  style,  so  that  all  the  old  men  came 
from  their  boston  to  look  into  the  ballroom  ;  and  the 
cavalryman  who  was  the  best  dancer  confessed  him- 
self outdone.  After  they  had  eaten  supper,  they 
danced  still  the  gross  vater,  and  began  to  disperse. 


222  two  irrssARS. 

The  count  nil  this  time  did  not  take  his  eyes  from 
the  Huh'  widow.  He  bad  not  been  Insincere  when  be 
declared  his  readiness  to  throw  himself  into  a  hole  in 
the  Ice. 

Whether  it  was  caprice  or  love  or  stubbornness,  but 
that  evening  all  the  strength  of  his  mind  had  been 
concentrated  into  one  desire,  —  to  see  and  to  love 
her. 

As  soon  as  he  perceived  that  Anna  Fedorovna  was 
taking  her  farewell  of  the  hostess,  he  hastened  to  the 
servants'  quarters,  and  thence,  without  his  shuba,  to 
the  place  where  the  carriages  were  drawn  up. 

"  Anna  Fedorovna  Zaitsova's  equipage,"  he  cried. 

A  high  four-seated  carriage  with  lanterns  moved  out, 
and  started  to  drive  up  to  the  doorstep. 

44  Stop  !  "  shouted  the  count  to  the  coachman,  rush- 
ing up  toward  the  carriage  through  snow  that  was 
knee-deep. 

11  What  is  wanted?"  called  the  driver. 

44  I  want  to  get  into  the  carriage,"  replied  the 
count,  opening  the  door  as  the  carriage  moved,  and 
trying  to  climb  in. 

"Stop,  you  devil!  stupid!  Vaska!1  stop!"  cried 
the  coachman  to  the  postilion,  and  reining  in  the 
horses.  u  What  are  you  getting  into  another  per- 
son's carriage  for?  This  belongs  to  the  Lady  Anna 
Fedorovna,  and  not  to  }Tour  grace." 

"Hush  up,  blockhead!  Na!  there's  a  ruble  for 
3'ou ;  now  come  down  and  shut  the  door!  "  said  the 
count. 

But  as  the  coachman  did  not  move,  he  lifted  the 
steps  himself,  and,  shutting  the  window,  managed  to 
pull  the  door  to. 

1  Diminutive  of  Vasili. 


TWO   HUSSARS.  223 

In  this,  as  in  all  ancient  carriages,  especially  those 
upholstered  in  3'ellow  galloon,  there  was  an  odor  of 
mustiness  and  burnt  bristles. 

rJThe  count's  legs  were  wet  to  the  knees  from  melt- 
ing snow,  and  almost  freezing  in  his  thin  boots  and 
trousers ;  and  his  whole  body  was  penetrated  by  a 
cold  like  that  of  winter. 

The  coachman  was  grumbling  on  his  box,  and  seemed 
to  be  getting  ready  to  get  down.  But  the  count 
heard  nothing  and  felt  nothing.  His  face  was  aglow, 
his  heart  was  beating  violently.  He  convulsively 
clutched  the  yellow  strap,  thrust  his  head  out  of  the 
side-window,  and  his  whole  being  was  concentrated  in 
expectation. 

He  was  not  doomed  to  wait  long.  At  the  doorsteps, 
they  shouted,  "  Zaitsova's  carriage  !  "  The  coachman 
shook  his  reins,  the  carriage  swung  on  its  high 
springs  ;  the  lighted  windows  of  the  house  passed  one 
after  another  by  the  carriage-windows. 

'*  See  here,  rogue,  if  3*011  tell  the  lackey  that  I  am 
here,"  said  the  count,  thrusting  his  head  through  the 
front  window,  and  addressing  the  coachman,  '-you'll 
feel  my  whip  ;  but  if  you  hold  your  tongue,  I  will  give 
you  ten  rubles  more." 

He  had  scarcely  time  to  close  the  window,  when  the 
carriage  shook  again  still  more  violently,  and  then 
the  wheels  came  to  a  stop. 

He  drew  back  as  far  as  possible  into  the  corner ;  he 
ceased  to  breathe ;  he  even  shut  his  eyes,  so  appre- 
hensive was  he,  lest  his  passionate  expectation  should 
be  disappointed. 

The  door  was  opened ;  one  after  the  other,  with  a 
creak,  the  steps  were  let  down ;  a  woman's  dress 
rustled,  and  the  close  atmosphere  of  the  carriage  was 


224  two  nussARS. 

impregnated  by  the  odor  of  jasmine  ;  a  woman's  dainty 
feet  harried  up  the  steps,  and  Anna  Fedorovna,  brush- 
ing ftgaiDSt  the  count's  leg  with  the  skirt  of  her  cloak, 
which  was  loosely  thrown  about  her,  silently,  and  wjth 
a  deep  sigh,  took  her  place  on  the  cushioned  seat  next 
him. 

Whether  she  saw  him  or  not,  no  one  could  decide, 
not  even  Anna  Fedorovna  herself:  but  when  he  took 
her  hand,  and  said,  "  Now  I  will  kiss  your  little  hand 
anyway,"  she  evinced  very  little  dismay.  She  said 
nothing,  but  let  him  take  her  hand,  which  he  covered 
with  kisses,  not  stopping  at  the  glove. 

The  carriage  rolled  off. 

"Tell  me  something.  You  are  not  angry?"  said 
he  to  her. 

She  silently  sank  back  into  her  corner,  but  suddenly, 
for  some  reason  or  other,  burst  into  tears,  and  let  her 
head  fall  on  his  breast. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  225 


VI. 


The  newly  elected  ispravnik,  with  his  company,  the 
cavalryman,  and  other  members  of  the  nobility,  had 
already  been  listening  for  some  time  to  the  gypsies, 
and  drinking  at  the  new  tavern,  when  the  count,  in 
a  blue-lined  bear-skin  shuba  which  had  belonged  to 
Anna  Fedorovna's  late  husband,  joined  them. 

"  Little  father,  your  excellency !  we  have  almost 
given  up  expecting  you,"  said  a  squint-eyed  black 
gypsy  with  brilliant  teeth,  who  met  him  in  the  entry 
and  divested  him  of  his  shuba.  "We  haven't  met 
since  we  were  at  Lebedyan.  .  .  .  Stiosha  has  pined 
away  on  account  of  you." 

Stioshka,  a  slender  young  gypsy-girl *  with  a  cherry 
red  bloom  on  her  cinnamon-colored  cheeks,  with  bril- 
liant deep  black  eyes,  shaded  by  long  eyelashes,  also 
hurried  to  meet  him. 

"Ah!  dear  little  count ! 2  my  sweetheart!  This  is 
a  pleasure,"  she  exclaimed  through  her  teeth,  with  a 
joyous  smile. 

Ilyushka  himself  came  to  greet  Turbin,  pretending 
that  he  was  very  glad  to  see  him.  The  old  women, 
the  wives,  the  young  girls,  hastened  to  the  spot  and 
surrounded  the  guest. 

One  would  have  said  that  he  was  a  relative  or  a  god- 
brother  to  them. 

Turbin  kissed  all  the  young  gypsy  girls  on  the  lips ; 

1  tsigatiolchka.  2  grafchik!  golubchik! 


226  TWO  HUSSARS. 

the  old  women  and  the  men  kissed  him  on  the  shoulder 
or  on  the  hand. 

The  gentlemen  were  also  vory  glad  of  the  count's 
arrival ;  the  more  because  the  festivity,  having  passed 

its  apogee,  was  now  becoming  tame  ;  every  one  began 
to  feel  a  sense  of  satiety.  The  wine,  having  lost  its 
exhilarating  effect  on  the  nerves,  only  served  to  load 
the  stomach.  Everybody  had  discharged  the  last  can- 
non of  his  wilduess,  and  was  looking  around  moodily. 
All  the  songs  had  been  sung,  and  ran  in  the  heads  of 
each,  leaving  a  mere  impression  of  noise  and  confu- 
sion. 

Whatever  any  one  did  that  was  strange  and  wild, 
the  rest  began  to  look  upon  it  as  nothing  very  enter- 
taining or  amusing. 

The  ispr&vnik  stretched  out  on  the  floor  in  shameless 
fashion  at  the  feet  of  some  old  woman,  kicked  his  leg 
in  the  air,  and  began  to  cry,  — 

4  4  Champagne!  .  .  .  The  count  has  come!  .  .  . 
Champagne !  ...  He  has  come  !  .  .  .  Now  give  us 
champagne !  .  .  .  I  will  make  a  bath  of  champagne, 
and  swim  in  it!  Gentlemen  of  the  nobility,  I  love 
your  admirable  society !  .  .  .  Stioshka,  sing  '  The 
NaiTow  Road.'  " 

The  cavalryman  was  also  very  gay,  but  in  a  differ- 
ene  fashion.  He  was  sitting  in  a  corner  of  a  sofa 
with  a  tall,  handsome  gypsy,  Liubasha ;  and  with  the 
consciousness  that  intoxication  was  beginning  to  cloud 
his  eyes,  he  kept  blinking  them,  and  swinging  his  head, 
and  repeating  the  same  words  over  and  over  again : 
he  was  proposing  in  a  whisper  to  the  gypsy  to  fly  with 
him  somewhere. 

Liubasha,  smiling,  listened  to  him  as  though  what 
he  said  were  very  amusing  to  her,  and  at  the  same 


TWO  IIUSS4RS.  227 

time  rather  melancholy.  Occasionally  she  cast  her 
glances  at  her  husband,  the  squint-eyed  Sashka,  who 
was  standing  behind  a  chair  near  her.  In  reply  to  the 
cavalryman's  declaration  of  love,  she  bent  over  to  his 
ear,  and  begged  him  to  buy  her  some  perfume  and  a 
ribbon  without  any  one  knowing  it,  so  that  the  others 
should  not  see  it. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  the  cavalryman  when  the  count 
came  in. 

The  handsome  young  man,  with  an  expression  of 
anxiety,  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  with 
solicitously  steady  steps,  and  humming  an  air  from  the 
M  Revolt  in  the  Seraglio." 

An  old  paterfamilias,  dragged  Out  to  see  the  gyp- 
sies through  the  irresistible  entreaties  of  the  gentlemen 
of  the  nobility,  who  had  told  him  that  if  he  staid 
away  every  thing  would  go  to  pieces,  and  in  that  case 
they  had  better  not  go,  was  lying  on  a  sofa  where  he 
had  stretched  himself  out  immediately  on  his  arrival ; 
and  no  one  paid  any  attention  to  him. 

A  chinovnik,  who  had  been  there  before,  had  taken 
off  his  coat,  was  sitting  with  his  legs  on  the  table,  and 
was  rumpling  up  his  hair,  and  thus  proving  that  he 
understoood  how  to  be  dissipated. 

As  soon  as  the  count  came  in,  the  official  unbut- 
toned his  shirt-collar,  and  lifted  his  legs  still  higher. 
The  count's  arrival  generally  gave  new  life  to  the 
festivities. 

The  gypsy  girls,  who  had  been  scattered  about  the 
room,  again  formed  their  circle.  The  count  seated 
Stioshka,  the  soloist,  on  his  knee,  and  ordered  more 
champagne  to  be  brought.  Ilyushka,  with  his  guitar, 
stood  in  front  of  the  soloist,  and  began  the  plyaska, 
that  is,  the  gypsy  song  and  dance,  "  When  I  walk  upon 


228  two  rrussAits. 

the  Street,"  "  Hey  !  you  Hussars,"  u  Do  you  hear,  do 
you  understand?"  and  others  of  the  usual  order. 

Stioshka  sang  splendidly.  Her  flexible,  sonorous 
contralto,  with  its  deep  chest  notes,  her  smiles  while 
she  was  singing,  be*  mischievous,  passionate  eyes,  and 
her  little  foot  which  involuntarily  kept  time  to  the 
measure  of  the  song,  her  despairing  wail  at  the  end  of 
each  couplet,  —  this  all  touched  some  resonant  but 
tender  chord.  It  was  evident  that  she  lived  only  in 
the  song  that  she  was  singing. 

Illyushka,  in  his  smile,  his  back,  his  legs,  his  whole 
being,  carrying  out  in  pantomime  the  idea  expressed  in 
the  song,  accompanied  it  on  his  guitar,  and,  fixing  his 
ej'es  upon  her  as  though  he  were  hearing  her  for  tiie 
first  time,  attentively  and  carefully  lifted  and  drooped 
his  head  with  the  rhythm  of  the  song. 

Then  he  suddenly  straightened  himself  up  as  the 
singer  sang  the  last  note,  and,  as  though  he  felt  him- 
self superior  to  every  one  else  in  the  world,  with  proud 
deliberation  kicked  the  guitar,  turned  it  over,  stamped 
his  foot,  tossed  back  his  locks,  and  looked  at  the 
chorus  with  a  frown. 

All  his  body,  from  his  neck  to  his  toes,  began  to 
dance  in  every  sinew. 

And  twenty  powerful,  energetic  voices,  each  trying 
to  outdo  the  other  in  making  strange  and  extraordinary 
noises,  were  lifted  in  union. 

The  old  women  sprang  down  from  their  chairs,  wav- 
ing their  handkerchiefs,  and  showing  their  teeth,  and 
crying  in  rhythmic  measure,  each  louder  than  the  other. 
The  bassos,  leaning  their  heads  on  one  side,  and  swell- 
ing their  necks,  bellowed  from  behind  their  chairs. 

When  Stioshka  emitted  her  high  notes,  Ilyushka 
brought  his  guitar  nearer  to  her  as  though  trying  to 


TWO  HUSSARS.  229 

aid  her;  and  the  handsome  young  man,  in  his  enthu- 
siasm, cried  out  that  now  they  struck  B-flat. 

When  they  came  to  the  national  dance,  the  Plyaso- 
vaya,  and  Duniasha,  with  shoulders  and  bosom  shaking, 
stepped  in  front  of  the  count,  and  was  passing  on, 
Turbin  leaped  from  his  place,  took  off  his  uniform, 
and,  remaining  only  in  his  red  shirt,  boldly  joined  her, 
keeping  up  the  same  measure,  and  cutting  with  his  feet 
such  antics,  that  the  gypsies  laughed  and  exchanged 
glances  of  approval. 

The  ispravnik,  who  was  sitting  Turkish  fashion, 
pounded  his  chest  with  his  fist,  and  cried  "  Vivat!  "  and 
then,  seizing  the  count  by  the  leg,  began  to  tell  him 
that  out  of  two  thousand  rubles,  he  had  only  five  hun- 
dred left  and  that  he  might  do  whatever  he  pleased,  if 
only  the  count  would  permit  him. 

The  old  paterfamilias  woke  up,  and  wanted  to  go 
home,  but  they  would  not  let  him.  The  handsome 
young  man  asked  a  gypsy  girl  to  waltz  with  him.  The 
cavalryman,  anxious  to  exalt  himself  by  his  friendship 
with  the  count,  got  up  from  his  corner,  and  embraced 
Turbin.  "Ah,  my  turtle-dove!"  he  cried.  "Why 
must  you  leave  us  so  soon?  ha?  "  The  count  said  noth- 
ing, being  evidently  absorbed  in  thought.  "Where 
did  you  go?  Ah,  }'ou  rascal,  I  know  where  you 
went ! ' ' 

This  familiarity  somehow  displeased  the  Count  Tur- 
bin. Without  smiling,  he  looked  in  silence  into  the 
cavalryman's  face,  and  suddenly  gave  him  such  a  ter- 
rible and  grievous  affront  that  the  cavalryman  was 
mortified,  and  for  some  time  did  not  know  what  to  make 
of  such  an  insult,  whether  it  were  a  joke  or  not  a  joke. 
At  last  he  made  up  his  mind  that  it  was  a  joke  ;  he 
smiled,  and  returned  to  his  gypsy,  assuring  her  that 
he  would  really  marry  her  after  Easter. 


230  TWO  HUSSARS. 

Another  song  was  sung,  a  third,  thoy  danced  Again  ; 

the  round  of  gayety  was  kept  up,  and  every  one 
continued  to  feel  gay.  There  was  no  end  to  the 
champagne* 

The  count  drank  a  great  deal.  II is  eyes  seemed  to 
grow  rather  moist,  but  he  did  not  grow  dizzy  ;  he 
danced  still  better  than  the  rest,  spoke  without  any 
thickness,  and  even  joined  in  a  chorus,  and  supported 
Stioshka  when  she  sang  "  The  sweet  emotion  of 
friendship." 

In  the  midst  of  the  dance  and  song  the  merchant, 
who  kept  the  hotel,  came  to  beg  the  guests  to  go  home, 
as  it  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

The  count  took  the  landlord  by  the  throat,  and 
ordered  him  to  dance  the  prisiadka.  The  merchant 
refused.  The  count  snatched  a  bottle  of  champagne, 
and  standing  the  merchant  on  his  head  ordered  him  to 
stay  so,  and  then  amid  general  hilarity  poured  the 
whole  bottle  over  him. 

The  dawn  was  already  breaking.  All  were  pale  and 
weary  except  the  count. 

"  At  all  events,  I  must  go  to  Moscow,"  said  he, 
suddenly  rising.  "  Come  with  me,  all  of  you,  to  my 
room,  children.  .  .  .  See  me  off,  and  let  us  have  some 
tea." 

All  accompanied  him  with  the  exception  of  the 
sleeping  proprietor,  who  still  remained  there ;  they 
piled  into  three  sledges  that  were  waiting  at  the  door, 
and  drove  off  to  the  hotel. 


TWO  nUSSARS.  23 


VII. 


"  Have  the  horses  put  in !  "  cried  the  count,  as  he 
entered  the  sitting-room  of  the  hotel  with  all  his  friends 
including  the  gypsies. 

"  Sashka,  — not  the  gypsy  Sashka,  but  mine,  —  tell 
the  superintendent  that  if  the  horses  are  poor  I  will 
flog  him.  Now  give  us  some  tea.  Zavalshevsky,  make 
some  tea ;  I  am  going  to  Ilyin's ;  I  want  to  find  how 
things  have  gone  with  him,"  added  Turbin;  and  he 
went  out  into  the  corridor,  and  directed  his  steps  to  the 
uhlan's  room. 

Ilyin  was  just  through  playing,  and,  having  lost  all 
his  money  down  to  his  last  kopek,  had  thrown  himself 
face  down  on  the  worn-out  haircloth  sofa,  and  was 
picking  the  hairs  out  one  by  one,  sticking  them  in  his 
mouth,  biting  them  into  two,  and  spitting  them  out 
again. 

Two  tallow  candles,  one  of  which  was  already  burnt 
down  to  the  paper,  stood  on  the  card-cluttered  ombre- 
table,  and  mingled  their  feeble  ra}Ts  with  the  morning 
light  which  was  beginning  to  shine  through  the  window. 

The  uhlan's  mind  was  vacant  of  all  thought :  that 
strange  thick  fog  of  the  gambling-passion  muffled  all 
the  capabilities  of  his  mind  so  that  there  was  not  even 
room  for  regret. 

Once  he  endeavored  to  think  what  was  left  for  him 
to  do,  how  he  should  get  away  without  a  kopek,  how 
he   should   pay  back   the   fifteen   thousand  rubles   of 


TWO  BU88AM8. 

public  money  that  be  bad  lost  in  gambling,  what  his 
colonel  would  say,  what  his  mother  would  say,  what 
his  comrades  would  say;  and  such  fear  name  over  him, 
and  such  disgust  at  himself,  that,  iu  his  anxiety  to 
rid  himself  of  the  thought  of  it,  he  arose  and  began 
to  walk  up  and  down  through  the  room,  trying  only  to 
walk  on  the  cracks  of  the  floor ;  and  then  once  more 
hi'  began  to  recall  all  the  least  details  of  the  evening. 

He  vividly  imagined  that  he  was  winning  the  whole 
back  again  :  he  takes  a  nine,  and  lays  down  a  king  of 
spades  on  two  thousand  rubles;  a  queen  lies  at  the 
right,  at  the  left  an  ace,  at  the  right  a  king  of  dia- 
monds —  and  all  was  lost !  but  if  he  had  had  a  six  at 
the  right  and  a  king  of  diamonds  at  the  left,  then  he 
would  have  won  it  all  back,  he  would  have  staked  all 
again  on  P,  and  would  have  won  back  his  fifteen  thou- 
sand rubles,  then  he  would  have  bought  a  good  pacer 
of  the  colonel,  an  extra  pair  of  horses,  and  a  phaeton. 
And  what  else  besides?  Ah!  indeed  it  would  have 
been  a  splendid,  splendid  thing! 

Again  he  threw  himself  down  on  the  sofa,  and  began 
to  bite  the  hairs  once  more. 

"Why  are  they  singing  songs  in  No.  7?"  he  won- 
dered. "  It  must  be,  they  are  having  a  jollification  in 
Turbin's  room.  I'm  of  a  good  mind  to  go  there,  and 
have  a  little  drink." 

Just  at  this  moment  the  count  came  in. 

"Well,  have  you  been  losing,  brother,  hey?"  he 
cried. 

"  I  will  pretend  to  be  asleep,  otherwise  I  shall  have 
to  talk  with  him,  and  I  really  want  to  sleep  now." 

Nevertheless  Turbin  went  up  to  him,  and  laid  his 
hand  caressingly  on  his  head.  .  .  .  "Well,  my  dear 
little  friend,  have  you  been  losing?  have  you  had  bad 
luck?    Tell  me." 


TWO  HUSSARS.  233 

Ilyin  made  no  reply. 

The  count  took  him  by  the  arm. 

"  I  have  been  losing.  What  is  it  to  you  ?  "  muttered 
Ilyin,  in  a  sleepy  voice  expressing  indifference  and 
vexation  ;  he  did  not  change  his  position. 

"Every  thing?" 

"Well,  yes.  What  harm  is  there  in  it?  AH!. 
What  is  it  to  you?" 

"  Listen:  tell  me  the  truth,  as  to  a  comrade,"  said 
the  count,  who,  under  the  influence  of  the  wine  that 
he  had  been  drinking,  was  disposed  to  be  tender,  and 
continued  to  smooth  the  other's  hair.  "  You  know  I 
have  taken  a  fancy  to  you.  Tell  me  the  truth.  If 
you  have  lost  the  public  money,  I  will  help  you  ;  if 
you  don't,  it  will  be  too  late.  .  .  .  Was  it  public 
money?" 

Ilyin  leaped  up  from  the  sofa. 

"  If  you  wish  me  to  tell  you,  don't  speak  to  me  so, 
because  .  .  .  and  I  beg  of  you  don't  speak  to  me  .  .  . 
I  will  blow  my  brains  out  —  that's  the  only  thing  that's 
left  for  me  now !  "  he  exclaimed  with  genuine  despair, 
letting  his  head  sink  into  his  hands,  and  bursting  into 
tears,  although  but  the  moment  before  he  had  been 
calmly  thinking  about  his  horses. 

"EkJi!  you're  a  pretty  young  girl!  Well,  who 
might  not  have  the  same  thing  happen  to  him?  It 
isn't  as  bad  as  it  might  be  ;  perhaps  we  can  straighten 
things  out :  wait  for  me  here." 

The  count  hastened  from  the  room. 

"Where  is  the  pomyeshchik1  Lukhnof's  room?"  he 
demanded  of  the  hall-boy. 

The  hall-boy  offered  to  show  the  count  the  way. 
The  count  in  spite  of  the  objections  of   the  lackey, 

1  Landed  proprietor. 


234  TWO  HUSSARS. 

who  said  that  his  master  had  only  just  come  in  and 
was  preparing  to  retire,  entered  the  room. 

Lukhnof  in  his  dressing-gown  was  sitting  in  front 
of  a  table,  counting  over  a  number  of  packages  of 
bank-notes  piled  op  before  him.  On  the  table  was  a 
bottle  of  Rheinwein,  of  which  he  was  very  fond.  He 
had  procured  himself  this  pleasure  from  his  winnings. 

Coldly,  sternly,  Lukhnof  looked  at  the  count  over 
his  glasses,  affecting  not  to  recognize  him. 

4k  It  seems  that  you  do  not  know  me,"  said  the 
count,  proceeding  toward  the  table  with  resolute  steps. 

Lukhnof  recognized  the  count,  and  asked,  — 

44  What  is  your  pleasure?  " 

"  I  wish  to  play  with  you,"  said  Turbin,  sitting  down 
on  the  sofa. 

44  Now?" 

44  Yes." 

44  Another  time  I  should  be  most  happy,  count;  but 
now  I  am  tired,  and  am  getting  ready  to  go  to  bed. 
Won't  you  have  some  wine?     It  is  excellent  wine." 

4'  But  I  wish  to  play  with  you  for  a  little  while  now." 

44 1  am  not  prepared  to  play  any  more.  Maybe 
some  of  the  other  guests  will.  I  will  not,  count!  I 
beg  of  you  to  excuse  me." 

44  Then  you  will  not?" 

Lukhnof  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  though  to  ex- 
press his  regret  at  not  being  able  to  fulfil  the  count's 
desires. 

kt  Will  you  not  play  under  any  consideration?  " 

The  same  gesture. 

44  I  am  very  desirous  of  playing  with  you.  .  .  .  Say, 
will  you  play,  or  not?" 

Silence. 

44  Will  you  play  ?  "  asked  the  count  a  second  time. 


TWO   HUSSARS.  235 

The  same  silence,  and  a  quick  glance  over  his  glasses 
at  the  count's  face,  which  was  beginning  to  grow 
sinister. 

"  Will  you  play?"  cried  the  count  in  a  loud  voice, 
striking  his  hand  on  the  table  so  violently  that  the 
bottle  of  Rheinwein  toppled  over  and  the  wine  ran  out. 
"You  have  been  cheating,  have  you  not?  Will  you 
play?     I  ask  you  the  third  time." 

11 1  have  told  you,  no  !  This  is  truly  strange,  count, 
.  .  .  perfectly  unjustifiable,  to  come  this  way,  and  put 
your  knife  at  a  man's  throat,"  remarked  Lukhnof,  not 
lifting  his  eyes. 

A  brief  silence  followed,  during  which  the  count's 
face  grew  paler  and  paler.  Suddenly  Lukhnof  received 
a  terrible  blow  on  the  head,  which  stunned  him.  He 
fell  back  on  the  divan,  trying  to  grasp  the  money,  and 
screamed  in  a  penetratingly  despairing  tone,  such  as 
was  scarcely  to  be  expected  from  him,  he  was  always 
so  calm  and  imposing  in  his  deportment. 

Turbin  gathered  up  the  remaining  bank-notes  that 
were  lying  on  the  table,  pushed  away  the  servant  who 
had  come  to  his  master's  assistance,  and  with  quick 
steps  left  the  room. 

twIf  3'ou  wish  satisfaction,  I  am  at  your  service;  I 
shall  be  in  my  room  for  half  an  hour  yet,  —  No.  7," 
added  the  count,  turning  back  as  he  reached  the  door. 

"Villain!  thief!"  cried  a  voice  from  within  the 
room.  .   .  .  "  I  will  have  satisfaction  at  law!" 

Ilyin,  who  had  not  paid  any  heed  to  the  count's 
promise  to  help  him,  was  still  lying  on  the  sofa  in  his 
room,  drowned  in  tears  of  despair. 

The  count's  caresses  and  sympathy  had  awakened 
him  to  a  consciousness  of  the  reality,  and  now,  amidst 
the  fog  of  strange  thoughts  and  recollections  which 
filled  his  mind,  it  made  itself  more  and  more  felt. 


230  TWO  HUSSARS. 

His  youth,  rich  in  hopes,  honor,  his  social  position, 
the  dreams  of  love  and  friendship,  were  all  destroyed 
forever.  The  fountain  of  his  tears  began  to  run  dry, 
a  too  calm  feeling  of  hopelessness  took  possession  of 
him;  and  the  thought  of  suicide,  now  bringing  no 
sense  of  repulsion  or  terror,  more  and  more  frequently 
recurred  to  him. 

At  this  moment  the  count's  firm  steps  were  heard. 

On  Turbiu'8  face  were  still  visible  the  last  traces  of 
his  recent  wrath,  his  hands  trembled  slightly ;  but  in 
his  eyes  shone  a  kindly  gayety  and  self-satisfaction. 

44  There !  It  has  been  won  back  for  you!' *  he 
cried,  tossing  upon  the  table  several  packages  of  bank- 
notes. "  Count  them  ;  are  they  all  there?  Then  come 
as  soon  as  possible  to  the  sitting-room ;  I  am  going 
off  right  away,"  he  added,  as  though  he  did  not  per- 
ceive the  tremendous  revulsion  of  joy  and  gratefulness 
which  rushed  over  the  uhlan's  face.  Then,  humming 
a  gypsy  song,  he  left  the  room. 


TWO  HUSSARS.     '  237 


VIII. 

Sashka,  tightening  his  girdle,  was  waiting  for  the 
horses  to  be  harnessed,  but  was  anxious  to  go  first  and 
get  the  count's  cloak,  which,  with  the  collar,  must  have 
been  worth  three  hundred  rubles,  and  return  that 
miserable  blue-lined  shuba  to  that  rascally  man  who 
had  exchanged* with  the  count  at  the  marshal's.  But 
Turbin  said  that  it  was  not  necessary,  and  went  to  his 
room  to  change  his  clothes. 

The  cavalryman  kept  hiccoughing  as  he  sat  silently 
b}r  his  gypsy  maiden.  The  ispravnik  called  for  vodka, 
and  invited  all  the  gentlemen  to  come  and  breakfast 
with  him,  promising  them  that  his  wife  would,  without 
fail,  dance  the  national  dance  with  the  gypsies. 

The  handsome  young  man  was  earnestly  arguing 
with  Ilyushka  that  there  was  more  soul  in  the  piano- 
forte, and  that  it  was  impossible  to  take  B-flat  on  the 
guitar.  The  chinovnik  was  gloomily  drinking  tea  in 
one  corner,  and  apparently  the  daylight  made  him  feel 
ashamed  of  his  dissipation. 

The  gypsies  were  conversing  together  in  Romany, 
and  urging  that  they  should  once  more  enliven  the 
gentlemen  ;  to  which  Stioshka  objected,  declaring  that 
it  would  only  vex  the  barorai,  —  that  is,  in  Romany, 
count  or  prince,  or  rather  great  barin. 

For  the  most  part,  the  last  spark  of  the  orgy  was 
dying  out. 

44  Well,  then,  one  more  song  for  a  farewell,  and  then 


238  two  nussARS. 

home  with  you,"  exclaimed  the  count,  fresh,  gay,  and 
radiant  above  all  the  others,  as  be  came  into  the  room 
ready  dressed  In  his  travelling  suit. 

The  gypsies  had  again  formed  their  circle,  and  were 
just  getting  ready  to  sing,  when  Ilyin  came  in  with  a 
package  of  bauk-uotes  in  his  hand,  and  drew  the  count 
to  one  side. 

M  I  had  only  fifteen  thousand  rubles  of  public  money, 
but  you  gave  me  sixteen  thousand  three  hundred," 
said  the  uhlan;  "this  is  yours,  of  course." 

M  That's  a  fine  arrangement.     Let  me  have  it." 

Ilyin  handed  him  the  money,  looking  timidly  at  the 
count,  and  opened  his  mouth  to  say  something ;  but 
then  he  reddened  so  painfully  that  the  tears  came  into 
his  eyes,  and  he  seized  the  count's  hand,  and  began  to 
squeeze  it. 

u  Away  with  you,  Ilyushka  .  .  .  listen  to  me ! 
Now,  here's  your  money,  but  you  must  accompany 
me  with  your  songs  to  the  city  limits!"  And  he 
threw  on  his  guitar  the  thirteen  hundred  rubles  which 
Ilyin  had  brought  him.  But  the  count  had  forgotten 
to  repay  the  cavalryman  the  one  hundred  rubles  which 
he  had  borrowed  of  him  the  evening  before. 

It  was  now  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  little 
sun  was  rising  above  the  housetops,  the  streets  were 
beginning  to  fill  with  people,  the  merchants  had  long 
ago  opened  their  shops,  nobles  and  chinovniks  were 
riding  up  and  down  through  the  streets,  and  ladies 
were  out  shopping,  when  the  band  of  gypsies,  the 
ispravnik,  the  cavalryman,  the  handsome  young  fellow, 
Ilyin,  and  the  count  who  was  wrapped  up  in  his  blue- 
lined  bear-skin  shuba,  came  out  on  the  door-steps  of 
the  hotel. 

It  was  a  sunny  day,  and  it  thawed.     Three  hired 


TWO  HUSSARS.  239 

troikas,  with  their  tails  knotted,  and  splashing  through 
the  liquid  mud,  pranced  up  to  the  steps ;  and  the  whole 
jolly  company  prepared  to  take  their  places.  The 
count,  Ilyin,  Stiosha,  Ilyushka,  and  Sashka  the  count's 
man,1  mounted  the  first  sledge. 

Bliicher  was  beside  himself  with  delight,  and,  wag- 
ging his  tail,  barked  at  the  shaft-horse. 

The  other  gentlemen,  together  with  the  gypsies, 
men  and  women,  climbed  into  the  other  sledges.  From 
the  very  hotel  the  sledges  flew  off  side  by  side,  and  the 
gypsies  set  up  a  merry  chorus  and  song. 

The  troikas,  with  the  songs  and  jingling  bells,  dashed 
through  the  whole  length  of  the  city  to  the  gates,  com- 
pelling all  the  equipages  which  they  met  to  rein  up  on 
the  very  sidewalks. 

Merchants  and  passers-by  who  did  not  know  them, 
and  especially  those  who  did,  were  filled  with  astonish- 
ment to  see  nobles  of  high  rank,  in  the  midst  of  "  the 
white  day,"  dashing  through  the  streets  with  intoxi- 
cated gypsies,  singing  at  the  tops  of  their  voices. 

When  they  reached  the  city  limits,  the  troikas 
stopped,  and  all  the  party  took  farewell  of  the  count. 

Ilyin,  who  had  drunk  considerable  at  the  leave-tak- 
ing, and  had  all  the  time  been  driving  the  horses,  sud- 
denly became  melancholy,  and  began  to  urge  the  count 
to  stay  just  one  day  more ;  but  when  he  was  assured 
that  this  was  impossible,  quite  unexpectedly  threw  him- 
self into  his  arms,  and  began  to  kiss  his  new  friend, 
and  promised  hiin  that  as  soon  as  he  got  to  camp,  he 
would  petition  to  be  transferred  into  the  regiment  of 
hussars  in  which  Count  Turbin  served. 

The  count  was  extraordinarily  hilarious ;  he  tipped 
into  a  snow-drift  the  cavalryman,  who,  since  morning, 

1  detishchik. 


240  TWO  IIUSSARS. 

had  definitely  taken  to  saying  thou  to  him ;  he  set 
Bliicher  on  the  ispnivnik  ;  he  took  Stioshka  into  his 
arms,  and  threatened  to  carry  her  off  with  him  to  Mos- 
cow ;  but  at  last  he  tucked  himself  into  the  sledge,  and 
stationed  Bliicher  by  his  side,  who  was  always  ready  to 
ride.  Sashka  took  his  place  on  the  box,  after  once 
more  asking  the  cavalryman  to  secure  the  couut's  cloak 
from  them,  and  to  send  it  to  him.  The  count  cried 
"Go  on,"  1  took  off  his  cap,  waved  it  over  his  head, 
and  whistled  in  post-boy  fashion  to  the  horses.  The 
troikas  parted  company. 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  stretched  a  monotonous 
snow-covered  plain,  over  which  wound  the  yellowish 
muddy  ribbon  of  the  road. 

The  bright  sunlight,  dancing,  glistened  on  the  melt- 
ing snow,  which  was  covered  with  a  thin  crust  of  trans- 
parent ice,  and  pleasantly  warmed  the  face  and  back. 

The  steam  arose  from  the  sweaty  horses.  The  bells 
jingled. 

A  peasant2  with  a  creaking  sledge,  heavily  loaded, 
slowly  turned  out  into  the  slushy  snow,  twitching  his 
hempen  reins,  and  tramping  with  his  well-soaked 
sabots.  8 

A  stout,  handsome  peasant  woman,  with  a  child 
wrapped  in  a  sheepskin  on  her  lap,  who  was  seated  on 
another  load,  used  the  end  of  her  reins  to  whip  up  a 
white  mangy-tailed  old  nag. 

Suddenly  the  count  remembered  Anna  Fedorovna. 

"  Turn  round  !  "  he  cried. 

The  driver  did  not  understand. 

'*  Turn  round  and  drive  back ;  back  to  the  city !  Be 
quick  about  it."  The  troika  again  passed  the  city 
gate,  and  quickly  drew  up  in  front  of  the  boarded  steps 
of  the  Zaitsova  dwelling.  ■ 

1  proshol.  *  muzhik.  s  lapti. 


TWO   HUSSARS.  241 

The  count  briskly  mounted  the  steps,  passed  through 
the  vestibule  and  the  parlor,  and  finding  the  widow 
still  asleep  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  lifting  her  from  her 
bed,  and  kissed  her  sleeping  eyes  again  and  again,  and 
then  darted  back  to  the  sledge. 

Anna  Fedorovna  awoke  from  her  slumber,  and 
demanded,  u  What  has  happened?  " 

The  count  took  his  seat  in  his  sledge,  shouted  to  the 
driver,  and  now  no  longer  delaying,  and  thinking  not 
of  Lukhnof  nor  of  the  little  widow,  nor  of  Stioshka, 
but  only  of  what  was  awaiting  him  in  Moscow,  rapidly 
left  the  city  of  K.  behind  him. 


242  TWO  HUSSARS. 


IX. 


A  score  of  years  have  passed.  Much  water  has  run 
since  then,  many  men  have  died,  many  children  have 
been  l>orn,  many  have  grown  up  and  become  old;  still 
more  thoughts  have  been  born  and  perished.  Much 
that  was  beautiful  and  much  that  was  ugly  in  the  past 
haVe  disappeared ;  much  that  is  beautiful  in  the  new 
has  l>een  brought  forth,  and  still  more  that  is  incom- 
plete and  abortive  of  the  new  has  appeared  in  God's 
world. 

Count  Feodor  Turbin  was  long  ago  killed  in  a  duel 
with  some  foreigner  whom  he  struck  on  the  street  with 
his  long  whip.  His  son,  who  was  as  like  him  as  two 
drops  of  water,  had  already  reached  the  age  of  two  or 
three  and  twenty,  and  was  a  lovely  fellow,  already 
serving  in  the  cavalry. 

Morally  the  young  Count  Turbin  was  entirely  differ- 
ent from  his  father.  There  was  not  a  shadow  of  those 
fiery,  passionate,  and  in  truth  be  it  said,  corrupt  incli- 
nations, peculiar  to  the  last  century. 

Together  with  intelligence,  cultivation,  and  inherited 
natural  gifts,  a  love  for  the  proprieties  and  amenities 
of  life,  a  practical  view  of  men  and  circumstances, 
wisdom  and  forethought,  were  his  chief  characteristics. 

The  young  count  made  admirable  progress  in  his 
profession  ;  at  twenty-three  he  was  already  lieutenant. 
.  .  .  When  war  broke  out,  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  would  be   more  for  his  interests  to  enter  the 


TWO  nUSSARS.  243 

regular  army ;  and  he  joined  a  regiment  of  hussars  as 
captain  of  cavalry,  where  he  soon  was  given  command 
of  a  battalion. 

In  the  month  of  Ma}T,  1848,  the  S.  regiment  of  hus- 
sars was  on  its  way  through  the  government  of  K., 
and  the  very  battalion  which  the  young  Count  Turbin 
commanded  was  obliged  to  be  quartered  for  one  night 
at  Morozovka,  Anna  Fedorovna's  village.  Anna  Fed- 
orovna  was  still  alive,  but  was  now  so  far  from  being 
young  that  she  no  longer  called  herself  young,  which, 
for  a  woman,  means  much. 

She  had  grown  very  stout,  and  this,  it  is  said,  restores 
youth  in  a  woman.  But  that  was  not  the  worst  of  it : 
over  her  pale,  stout  flesh  was  a  net-work  of  coarse, 
flabby  wrinkles.  She  no  longer  went  to  the  city,  she 
even  found  it  hard  to  mount  into  her  carriage ;  but  still 
she  was  just  as  good-natured  and  as  completely  vacant- 
minded  as  ever,  —  the  truth  might  safely  be  told,  now 
that  it  was  no  longer  palliated  by  her  beauty. 

Under  her  roof  lived  her  daughter  Liza,  a  rustic 
Russian  belle  of  twenty-three  summers,  and  her  brother, 
our  acquaintance  the  cavalryman,  who  had  spent  all  his 
patrimony  in  behalf  of  others,  and  now,  in  his  old  age, 
had  taken  refuge  with  Anna  Fedorovna. 

The  hair  on  his  head  had  become  perfectly  gray ;  his 
upper  lip  was  sunken,  but  the  mustache  that  it  wore 
was  carefully  dyed.  Wrinkles  covered  not  only  his 
brow  and  cheeks,  but  also  his  nose  and  neck ;  and  yet 
his  weak  bow-legs  gave  evidence  of  the  old  cavalryman. 

Anna  Fedorovna's  whole  family  and  household  were 
gathered  in  the  small  parlor  of  the  ancient  house.  The 
balcony  door  and  windows,  looking  out  into  a  star- 
shaped  garden  shaded  by  lindens,  were  open.  Anna 
Fedorovna,  in  her  gray  hair  and  a  lilac-colored  gown,1 

1  katsave'ika. 


21  I  TWO  HUSSARS. 

was  sitting  on  the  sofa,  before  a  small  round  mahog- 
any table,  shuffling  cards.    The  < >  1* I  brother,  dressed  in 

spruce  white  pantaloons  and  a  blue  coat,  had  taken  up 
his  position  near  the  window,  knitting  strips  of  white 
cotton  on  a  fork,  an  occupation  which  his  niece  had 
taught  him,  and  which  gave  him  great  enjoyment,  as 
he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  his  eyes  not  being  strong 
enough  to  enable  him  to  read  newspapers,  which  was 
his  favorite  occupation.  Near  him  Pimotchka,  a  pro- 
t&jie  of  Anna  Fedorovna,  was  studying  her  lessons 
under  the  guidance  of  Liza,  who  with  wooden  knit- 
ting-needles was  knitting  stockings  of  goat-wool  for 
her  uncle. 

The  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  as  always  at  this 
time,  threw  under  the  linden  alley  their  soft  reflections 
on  the  last  window-panes  and  the  little  ttag&re  which 
stood  near  it. 

In  the  garden  it  was  so  still  that  one  could  hear  the 
swift  rush  of  a  swallow's  wings,  and  so  quiet  in  the 
room  that  Anna  Fedorovna's  gentle  sigh,  or  the  old 
man's  cough  as  he  kept  changing  the  position  of  his 
legs,  was  the  only  sound. 

"  How  does  this  go,  Lizanka?  show  me,  please.  I 
keep  forgetting,"  said  Anna  Fedorovna,  pausing  in  the 
midst  of  her  game  of  patience.  Liza,  without  stop- 
ping her  work,  went  over  to  her  mother,  and,  glancing 
at  the  cards,  "Ah!"  says  she.  "You  have  mixed 
them  all  up,  dear  mamasha,"  said  she,  arranging  the 
cards.  "  That  is  the  way  they  should  be  placed.  Now 
they  come  as  you  desired,"  she  added,  secretly  with- 
drawing one  card. 

"  Now  you  are  always  managing  to  deceive  me ! 
You  said  that  it  would  go." 

"  No,  truly  ;  it  goes,  I  assure  you.  It  has  come  out 
right." 


TWO  HUSSARS.  245 

"  Very  well,  then  ;  very  well,  you  rogue  !  But  isn't 
it  time  for  tea?  " 

"I  have  just  ordered  the  samovar  heated.  I  will 
go  and  see  about  it  immediately.  Shall  we  have  it 
brought  here?  .  .  .  Now,  Pimotchka,  hasten  and  fin- 
ish your  lessons,  and  we  will  go  and  take  a  run." 

And  Liza  started  for  the  door. 

"  Lizotehka  !  Lizanka  !  "  cried  her  uncle,  steadfastly 
regarding  his  fork,  "again  it  seems  to  me  I  have 
dropped  a  stitch.     Arrange  it  for  me,  nry  darling."  1 

"In  a  moment,  in  a  moment.  First  I  must  have 
the  sugar  broken  up." 

And  in  point  of  fact,  within  three  minutes,  she  came 
running  into  the  room,  went  up  to  her  uncle,  and  took 
him  by  the  ear. 

"  That's  to  pay  you  for  dropping  stitches,"  said  she 
laughing.  "You  have  not  been  knitting  as  I  taught 
you." 

"  Now,  that'll  do,  that'll  do,  adjust  it  for  me  ;  there 
seems  to  be  some  sort  of  a  knot." 

Liza  took  the  fork,  pulled  out  a  pin  from  her  ker- 
chief, which  was  blown  back  a  little  by  the  breeze 
coming  through  the  window,  picked  it  out  a  couple  of 
times,  and  handed  it  back  to  her  uncle. 

"  Now  you  must  kiss  me  for  that,"  said  she,  putting 
up  her  rosy  cheek  toward  him,  and  re-adjusting  her 
kerchief.  "  You  shall  have  rum  in  your  tea  to-day. 
To-day  is  Friday,  you  see." 

And  again  she  went  to  the  tea-room. 

"Uncle  dear,  come  and  look!  some  hussars  are 
riding  up  toward  the  house ! ' '  her  ringing  voice  was 
heard  to  say.  Anna  Fedorovna  and  her  brother 
hastened  into   the   tea-room,  the   windows   of  which 


golubchik. 


24 G  TWO  nUSSARS. 

faced  the  village,  and  looked  at  the  hussars.  Very 
little  was  to  be  Been;  through  the  cloud  of  dust  it 
could  be  judged  only  that  a  body  of  men  was  advan- 
cing. 

"  What  a  pity,  sister,"  remarked  the  uncle  to  Anna 
Fedorovna,  "  what  a  pity  that  we  are  so  cramped,  and 
the  wing  is  not  built  yet,  so  that  we  might  invite  the 
officers  here.  Officers  of  the  hussars !  they  are  such 
glorious,  gay  young  fellows !  I  should  like  to  have  a 
glimpse  at  them." 

u  Well,  I  should  be  heartily  glad,  but  you  know 
yourself  that  there  is  nowhere  to  put  them :  my  sleep- 
ing-room, Liza's  room,  the  parlor,  and  then  your  room, 
—  judge  for  yourself.  Mikh&ilo  Matveef  has  put  the 
stdrosta's  *  house  in  order  for  them  ;  he  says  it  will  be 
nice  there." 

44  But  we  must  find  j'ou  a  husband,  Lizotchka,- 
among  them,  —  a  glorious  hussar!"  said  the  uncle. 

"No,  I  do  not  want  a  hussar:  I  want  an  uhlan. 
Let  me  see,  you  served  among  the  uhlans,  didn't  you, 
uncle?  .  .  .  I  don't  care  to  know  these  hussars.  They 
say  they  are  desperate  fellows." 

And  Liza  blushed  a  little,  and  then  once  more  her 
ringing  laugh  was  heard.  ''There's  Ustiushka  run- 
ning: we  must  ask  her  what  she  saw,"  said  she. 
Anna  Fedorovna  sent  to  have  Ustiushka  brought  in. 

"  She  has  no  idea  of  sticking  to  her  work,  she  must 
always  be  running  off  to  look  at  the  soldiers,"  said 
Anna  Fedorovna.  .  .  .  "  Now,  where  have  they  lodged 
the  officers?  " 

"  With  the  Yeremkins,  your  ladyship.  There  are 
two  of  them,  such  lovely  men !  One  of  them  is  a 
count,  they  tell  me." 

i  Village  elder. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  .         247 

•«  What's  his  name?" 
•     "  Kaz&rof  or  Turbinof .     I  don't  remember,  excuse 
me." 

"There  now,  you're  a  goose,  you  don't  know  how 
to  tell  any  thing  at  all.  You  might  have  remembered 
his  name  !  " 

"  Well,  I'll  run  and  find  out." 

14 1  know  that  you  are  quite  able  to  do  that.  But 
no,  let  Danilo  go.  —  Brother,  go  and  tell  him  to  go ; 
have  him  ask  if  there  is  not  something  which  the 
officers  may  need  ;  every  thing  must  be  done  in  good 
form  ;  have  them  understand  that  it  is  the  lady  of  the 
house  who  has  sent  to  find  out." 

The  old  people  sat  down  again  in  the  tea-room,  and 
Liza  went  to  the  servants'  room  to  put  the  lumps  of 
sugar  in  the  sugar-bowl.  Ustiushka  was  telling  them 
there  about  the  hussars. 

14  O  my  dear  young  lady,  what  a  handsome  man  he 
is!  that  count!  "  she  said,  "  absolutely  a  little  cheru- 
bim,1 with  black  eyebrows.  You  ought  to  have  such  a 
husband  as  that ;  what  a  lovely  little  couple  you  would 
make!"  The  other  maids  smiled  approvingly;  the 
old  nurse,  sitting  by  the  window  with  her  stocking, 
sighed,  and,  drawing  a  long  breath,  murmured  a  prayer. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  the  hussars  have  given  you 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure,"  said  Liza.  "You  aie  a 
master  hand  at  description.  Bring  me  the  mors,2 
Ustiushka,  please  ;  we  must  give  the  officers  something 
sour  to  drink."  And  Liza,  laughing,  went  out  with 
the  sugar-bowl. 

"  But  I  should  like  to  see  what  sort  of  a  man  this 
hussar  is,  —  whether  he  is  brunet  or  blondin.  And  I 
imagine  he  would  not  object  to  making  our  aequaint- 

1  kherubimchik.  2  A  sour  beverage  made  of  cranberries. 


248  TWO  HUSSARS. 

anco.  But  he  will  go  away,  and  never  know  that  I 
was  here  and  was  thinking  about  him.  And  how 
many  have  passed  by  me  in  this  way !  No  one  ever 
sees  me  except  uncle  and  Ustiusha !  How  many  times 
I  have  arranged  my  hair,  how  many  pairs  of  cuffs  I 
have  put  on,  and  yet  no  one  ever  sees  me  or  falls  in 
love  with  me,"  she  thought  with  a  sigh,  contemplating 
her  white,  plump  hand. 

w  He  must  be  tall,  and  have  big  eyes,  and  a  nice 
little  black  mustache.  .  .  .  No!  I  am  already  over 
twenty-two,  and  no  one  has  ever  fallen  in  love  with 
me  except  the  pock-marked  Ivan  Ipiituitch.  And  four 
years  ago  I  was  still  better-looking ;  and  so  my  girl- 
hood has  gone,  and  no  one  is  the  better  for  it.  Ah  !  I 
am  an  unhappy  country  maiden  !  " 

Her  mother's  voice,  calling  her  to  bring  the  tea, 
aroused  the  country  maiden  from  this  momentary 
revery. 

She  shook  her  little  head,  and  went  into  the  tea- 
room. 

The  best  things  always  happen  unexpectedly ;  and 
the  more  you  try  to  force  them,  the  worse  they  come 
out.  In  the  country  it  is  rare  that  any  attempt  is 
made  to  impart  education,  and  therefore  when  a  good 
one  is  found  it  is  generally  a  surprise.  And  thus  it 
happened,  in  a  notable  degree,  in  the  case  of  Liza. 
Anna  Fedorovna,  through  her  own  lack  of  intelligence 
and  natural  laziness,  had  not  given  Liza  an}r  educa- 
tion at  all ;  had  not  taught  her  music,  nor  the  French 
language  which  is  so  indispensable.  But  the  girl  had 
fortunately  been  a  healthy,  bright  little  child :  she  had 
intrusted  her  to  a  wet-nurse  and  a  day-nurse ;  she 
had  fed  her,  and  dressed  her  in  print  dresses  and  goat- 
skin shoes,  and  let  her  run  wild  and  gather  mushrooms 


TWO  HUSSARS.  249 

and  berries  ;  had  her  taught  reading  and  arithmetic  by 
a  resident  seminarist.  And  thus,  as  fate  would  have 
it,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  she  found  in  her  daughter  a 
companion,  a  soul  who  was  always  cheerful  and  good- 
natured,  and  the  actual  mistress  of  the  house. 

Through  her  goodness  of  heart,  Anna  Fedorovna 
always  had  in  her  house  some  protegee,  either  a  serf 
or  some  foundling.  Liza,  from  the  time  she  was  ten 
years  old,  had  begun  to  take  care  of  them ;  to  teach 
them,  clothe  them,  take  them  to  church,  and  keep  them 
still  when  they  were  inclined  to  be  mischievous. 

Then  her  old  broken-down  but  good-natured  uncle 
made  his  appearance,  and  he  had  to  be  taken  care  of 
like  a  child.  Then  the  domestic  servants  and  the 
peasants  began  to  come  to  the  young  mistress  with 
their  desires  and  their  ailments  ;  and  she  treated  them 
with  elderberry,  mint,  and  spirits  of  camphor.  Then 
the  domestic  management  of  the  house  fell  into  her 
hands  entirely.  Then  came  the  unsatisfied  craving 
for  love,  which  found  expression  only  in  nature  and 
religion. 

Thus  Liza,  by  chance,  grew  into  an  active,  good- 
naturedly  cheerful,  self-poised,  pure,  and  deeply  reli- 
gious young  woman. 

To  be  sure,  she  had  her  little  fits  of  jealousy  and 
envy  when  she  saw,  all  around  her  in  church,  her 
neighbors  dressed  in  new,  fashionable  hats  that  came 
from  K. ;  she  was  sometimes  vexed  to  tears  by  her 
old,  irritable  mother,  and  her  caprices ;  she  had  her 
dreams  of  love  in  the  most  absurd  and  even  the 
crudest  forms,  but  her  healthy  activity,  which  she 
could  not  shirk,  drove  them  away  ;  and  now,  at  twenty- 
two,  not  a  single  spot,  not  a  single  compunction, 
had  touched  the  fresh,  calm  soul  of  this  maiden,  now 


250  TWO  IWSSARS. 

developed  into  the  fulness  of  perfect  physical  and  moral 
beauty. 

Liza  was  of  medium  height,  rather  plump  than  leau  ; 
her  eyes  were  brown,  small,  with  a  soft  dark  shade  on 
the  lower  lid  ;  she  wore  her  llaxen  hair  in  a  long  braid. 

In  walking  she  took  long  'steps,  and  swayed  like  a 
duck,  as  the  saying  is. 

The  expression  of  her  face,  when  she  was  occupied 
with  her  duties,  and  nothing  especially  disturbed  her, 
seemed  to  say  to  all  who  looked  into  it,  "  Life  in  this 
world  is  good  and  pleasant  to  one  who  has  a  heart  full 
of  love,  and  a  pure  conscience." 

Even  in  moments  of  vexation,  of  trouble,  of  unrest, 
or  of  melancholy,  in  spite  of  her  tears,  of  the  draw- 
ing-down of  the  left  brow,  of  the  compressed  lips,  of 
the  petulance  of  her  desires,  even  then  in  the  dimples 
of  her  cheeks,  in  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  and  in  her 
brilliant  eyes,  so  used  to  smile  and  rejoice  in  life,  — 
even  then  there  shone  a  heart  good  and  upright,  and 
unspoiled  by  knowledge. 


TWO  HUSSABS.  251 


X. 


It  was  still  rather  warm,  though  the  sun  was  already 
set,  when  the  battalion  arrived  at  Morozovka.  In 
front  of  them,  along  the  dusty  village  street,  trotted  a 
brindled  cow,  separated  from  the  herd,  bellowing,  and 
occasionally  stopping  to  look  round,  and  never  once 
perceiving  that  all  she  had  to  do  was  to  turn  out  and 
let  the  battalion  pass. 

Peasants,  old  men,  women,  children,  and  domestic 
serfs,  crowding  both  sides  of  the  road,  gazed  curiously 
at  the  hussars. 

Through  a  thick  cloud  of  dust  the  hussars  rode 
along  on  raven-black  horses,  curvetting  and  occasion- 
ally snorting. 

At  the  right  of  the  battalion,  gracefully  mounted  on 
beautiful  black  steeds,  rode  two  officers.  One  was  the 
commander,  Count  Turbin ;  the  other  a  very  young 
man,  who  had  recently  been  promoted  from  the 
yunkers ;  his  name  was  Polozof . 

A  hussar,  in  a  white  kittel,  came  from  the  best  of 
the  cottages,  and,  taking  off  his  cap,  approached  the 
officers. 

u  What  quarters  have  been  assigned  to  us?  "  asked 
the  count. 

"For  your  excellency?  "  replied  the  quartermaster, 
his  whole  body  shuddering.  "  Here  at  the  stdrosta's; 
he  has  put  his  cottage  in  order.     I  tried  to  get  a  room 


252  TWO  nUSSARS. 

at  the  mansion,1  but  they  said  no ;  the  proprietress  is 
so  ill-tempered." 

u  Well,  all  right,"  said  the  count,  dismounting  and 
stretching  his  legs  as  he  reached  the  stdrosta's  cot- 
tage.    "  Tell  me,  has  my  carriage  come?  " 

"  It  has  deigned  to  arrive,  your  excellency,"  replied 
the  quartermaster,  indicating  with  his  cap  the  leathern 
carriage-top  which  was  to  be  seen  inside  the  gate,  and 
then  hastening  ahead  into  the  entry  of  the  cottage, 
which  was  crowded  with  the  family  of  serfs,  gathered 
to  have  a  look  at  the  officer. 

He  even  tripped  over  an  old  woman,  as  he  hastily 
opened  the  door  of  the  neatly  cleaned  cottage,  and 
stood  aside  to  let  the  count  pass. 

The  cottage  was  large  and  commodious,  but  not  per- 
fectly clean.  The  German  bodj'-servant,2  dressed  like 
a  barin,  was  standing  in  the  cottage,  and,  having  just 
finished  setting  up  the  iron  bed,  was  taking  out  clean 
linen  from  a  trunk. 

"  Phut  what  a  nasty  lodging!"  exclaimed  the 
count  in  vexation.  "  Diadenko  !  Is  it  impossible  to 
find  me  better  quarters  at  the  proprietor's  or  some- 
where? " 

"  If  your  excellency  command,  I  will  go  up  to  the 
mansion,"  replied  Diadenko  ;  "  but  the  house  is  small 
and  wretched,  and  seems  not  much  better  than  the 
cottage." 

"  "Well,  that's  all  now.     You  can  go." 

And  the  count  threw  himself  down  on  the  bed, 
supporting  his  head  with  his  hands. 

"  Johann  !  "  he  cried  to  his  body-servant;  u  again 
you  have  made  a  hump  in  the  middle.  Why  can't  you 
learn  to  make  a  bed  decently?  " 

1  bar  sky  dvar.  *  kammerdiener. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  253 

Johann  was  anxious  to  make  it  over  again. 

"No,  you  need  not  trouble  about  it  now!  .  .  . 
Where's  my  dressing-gown?"  he  proceeded  to  ask  in 
a  petulant  voice.  The  servant  gave  him  the  dressing- 
gown. 

The  count,  before  he  put  it  on,  examined  the  skirt. 
"There  it  is!  You  have  not  taken  that  spot  out! 
Could  it  be  possible  for  any  one  to  be  a  worse  servant 
than  you  are?  "  he  added,  snatching  the  garment  from 
the  servant's  hands,  and  putting  it  on.  "  Now  tell 
me,  do  }'ou  do  this  way  on  purpose?     Is  tea  ready?  " 

u  I  haven't  had  time  to  make  it,"  replied  Johann. 

"Fool!" 

After  this,  the  count  took  a  French  novel  which  was 
at  hand,  and  read  for  gome  time  without  speaking ; 
but  Johann  went  out  into  the  entry  to  blow  up  the  coals 
in  the  samovar. 

It  was  plain  to  see  that  the  count  was  in  a  bad 
humor ;  it  must  have  been  owing  to  weariness,  to  the 
dust  on  his  face,  to  his  tightly-fitting  clothes,  and  to 
his  empty  stomach.  "  Johann  !  "  he  cried  again,  "  give 
me  an  account  of  those  ten  rubles.  What  did  you  get 
in  town  ?  ' ' 

The  count  looked  over  the  account  which  the  ser- 
vant handed  him,  and  made  some  dissatisfied  remarks 
about  the  high  prices  paid. 

"  Give  me  the  rum  for  the  tea." 

"  I  did  not  get  any  rum,"  said  Johann. 

"  Delightful !  How  many  times  have  I  told  you 
always  to  have  rum  ?  ' ' 

"  I  didn't  have  money  enough." 

"  Why  didn't  Polozof  buy  it?  You  might  have  got 
some  from  his  man." 

"  The  cornet  Polozof?  I  do  not  know.  He  bought 
tea  and  sugar." 


254  TWO  HUSSARS. 

"Beast!  Get  you  gone.  You  arc  the  only  man 
who  bus  the  power  to  exhaust  my  patience !  You 
know  that  I  always  take  rum  in  my  tea  when  I  am  on 
the  inarch." 

11  Here  are  two  letters  one  of  the  staff  brought  for 
you,"  said  the  body-servant. 

The  count,  as  he  lay  on  the  bed,  tore  open  the  letters, 
and  began  to  read  them.  At  this  moment  the  cornet 
came  in  with  gay  countenance,  having  quartered  the 
battalion. 

""Well,  how  is  it,  Turbin?  It's  first-rate  here, 
seems  to  me.  I  am  tired  out,  I  confess  it.  It  has 
been  a  warm  day." 

"First-rate!  I  should  think  so!  A  dirty,  stinking 
hut !  and  no  rum,  thanks  to  you.  Your  stupid  did  not 
buy  any,  nor  this  one  either.  You  might  have  said 
something  anyway !  " 

And  he  went  on  with  his  reading.  After  he  had 
read  the  letter  through,  he  crumpled  it  up,  and  threw 
it  on  the  floor. 

M  Wliy  didn't  you  buy  some  rum?  "  the  cornet  in  a 
whisper  demanded  of  his  servant  in  the  entry.  "  Didn't 
you  have  any  money?  " 

"  Well,  why  should  we  be  always  the  ones  to  spend 
the  money?  I  have  enough  to  spend  for  without  that, 
and  his  German  does  nothing  but  smoke  his  pipe,  — 
that's  all." 

The  second  letter  was  evidently  not  disagreeable, 
because  the  count  smiled  as  he  read  it. 

"Who's  that  from  ?"  asked  Polozof,  returning  to 
the  room,  and  trying  to  arrange  for  himself  a  couch 
on  the  floor,  near  the  oven. 

"  From  Mina,"  replied  the  count  gayly,  handing 
him  the  letter.     "  Would  you  like  to  read  it?     "  What 


TWO  IJUSSAR8.  255 

a  lovely  woman  she  is !  Now,  she's  better  than  our 
young  ladies,  that's  a  fact.  Just  see  what  feeling  and 
what  wit  in  that  letter !  There's  only  one  thing  that  I 
don't  like,  — she  asks  me  for  money  !  " 

"  No,  that's  not  pleasant,"  replied  the  cornet. 

"Well  it's  true  I  promised  to  give  her  some ;  but 
this  expedition —  And  besides,  if  I  am  commander 
of  the  battalion,  at  the  end  of  three  months  I  will  send 
some  to  her.  I  should  not  regret  it ;  she's  really  a 
lovely  woman.  Isn't  she?"  he  asked  with  a  smile, 
following  with  his  eyes  Polozof 's  expression  as  he  read 
the  letter. 

"  Horribly  misspelled,  but  sweet ;  it  seems  to  me  she 
really  loves  you,"  replied  the  cornet. 

M  Hm  !  I  should  think  so  J  Only  these  women  truly 
love  when  they  do  love." 

"  But  who  was  that  other  letter  from?"  asked  the 
comet,,  pointing  to  the  one  which  he  had  read. 

tk  That?  Oh,  that's  from  a  certain  man,  very  ugly, 
to  whom  I  owe  a  gambling  debt,  and  this  is  the  third 
time  that  he  has  reminded  me  of  it.  I  can't  pay  it  to 
him  now.  It's  a  stupid  letter,"  replied  the  count,  evi- 
dently nettled  by  the  recollection  of  it. 

The  two  officers  remained  silent  for  some  little  time. 
The  cornet,  who,  it  seemed,  had  come  under  Turbin's 
influence,  drank  his  tea  without  speaking,  though  he 
occasionally  cast  a  glance  at  the  clouded  face  of  the 
handsome  count,  who  gazed  steadily  out  of  the  window. 
He  did  not  venture  to  renew  the  conversation. 

"  Well,  then,  I  think  it  can  be  accomplished  without 
difficulty,"  suddenly  exclaimed  the  count,  turning  to 
Polozof,  and  gayty  nodding  his  head.  "If  we  who  are 
in  the  line  get  promoted  this  year,  yes,  and  if  we  take 
part  in  some  engagement,  then  I  can  overtake  my 
former  captains  of  the  guard." 


256  TWO  HUSSARS. 

Thcv  were  drinking  their  second  cup  of  tea,  and  the 
conversation  was  still  dwelling  on  this  theme,  when 
the  old  Danilo  came  with  the  message  from  Anna 
Fedorovna. 

44  And  she  would  also  like  to  know  whether  you  are 
not  pleased  to  be  the  son  of  Feodor  Ivanovitch 
Turbin,"  he  added,  on  his  own  responsibility,  as  he 
had  found  out  the  officer's  name,  and  still  remem- 
bered the  late  count's  visit  to  the  city  of  K.  "  Our 
mistress,1  Anna  Fedorovna,  used  to  be  very  well 
acquainted  with  him." 

4 'He  was  my  father.  Now  tell  the  lady  that  I  am 
very  much  obliged,  but  that  I  need  nothing ;  only,  if  it 
would  not  be  possible  to  give  me  a  cleaner  room  in  the 
mansion,  say,  or  somewhere." 

44  Now,  why  did  you  do  that?  "  asked  Polozof  after 
Danilo  had  gone.  44  Isn't  it  just  the  same  thing?  For 
one  night  isn't  it  just  as  well  here?  And  it  will  put 
them  to  inconvenience." 

44  There  it  is  again  !  It  seems  to  me  we  have  had 
enough  of  being  sent  round  among  these  smoky  hovels.'2 
It's  eas}r  enough  to  see  that  you  are  not  a  practical 
man.  Why  shouldn't  we  seize  the  opportunity,  when 
we  can,  of  sleeping,  even  if  it's  for  only  one  night,  like 
decent  men?  And  they,  contrary  to  what  you  think, 
will  be  mighty  glad.  There's  only  one  thing  objection- 
able. If  this  lad}7  used  to  know  my  father,"  continued 
the  count,  with  a  smile  that  discovered  his  white  gleam- 
ing teeth,  — 44  somehow  I  always  feel  a  little  ashamed 
of  my  late  papasha ;  there's  always  some  scandalous 
story,  or  some  debt  or  other.  And  so  I  can't  endure 
to  meet  any  of  my  father's  acquaintances.  However, 
that  was  an  entirely  different  age,"  he  added  seriously. 

1  bdruinya.  2  kurnaya  izba,  a  peasant's  hut  without  chimney. 


TWO   HUSSARS.  257 

"Oh!  I  did  not  tell  you,"  rejoined  Tolozof.  "I 
recently  met  Ilyin,  the  brigade  commander  of  uhlans. 
He  is  very  anxious  to  see  you  ;  he  is  passionately  fond 
of  your  father." 

"I  think  that  he  is  terrible  trash,  that  Ilyin.  But 
the  worst  is  that  all  these  gentlemen  who  imagine  that 
they  knew  my  father  in  order  to  make  friends  with  me, 
insist  upon  telling  me,  as  though  it  were  very  pleasant 
for  me  to  hear,  about  escapades  of  his  that  make  me 
blush.  It  is  true  I  am  not  impulsive,  and  I  look 
upon  things  dispassionately  ;  while  he  was  too  hot- 
spirited  a  man,  and  sometimes  he  played  exceedingly 
reprehensible  tricks.  However,  that  was  all  due  to  his 
time.  In  our  day  and  generation,  maybe,  he  would 
have  been  a  very  sensible  man,  for  he  had  tremendous 
abilities  ;  one  must  give  him  credit  for  that." 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  servant  returned,  and 
brought  an  invitation  for  them  to  come  and  spend  the 
night  at  the  mansion. 


258  TWO  IJUSSARS. 


XL 


As  soon  as  Anna  Fedorovna  learned  that  the  officer 
of  hussars  was  the  son  of  Count  Feodor  Turbin,  she 
was  thrown  into  a  great  state  of  excitement. 

"Oh!  great  heavens  !  *  he  is  my  darling!  Danilo! 
run,  hurry,  tell  them  the  lad}'  invites  them  to  stay  at 
her  house,"  she  cried,  in  great  agitation,  and  hasten- 
ing to  the  servants'  room.  "  Lizanka  !  Ustiushka  ! 
You  must  have  your  room  put  in  order,  Liza.  You  can 
go  into  your  uncle's  room  ;  and  you,  brother,  —  brother, 
you  can  sleep  to-night  in  the  parlor.  It's  for  only  one 
night." 

"  That's  nothing,  sister!  I  would  sleep  on  the 
floor." 

"  He  must  be  a  handsome  fellow,  I  think,  if  he's 
like  his  father.  Only  let  me  see  him,  the  turtle-dove  ! 
You  shall  see  for  yourself,  Liza.  Ah  !  his  father  was 
handsome  !  Where  shall  we  put  the  table  ?  Let  it  go 
there,"  said  Anna  Fedorovna,  running  about  here  and 
there.  "  There  now,  bring  in  two  beds  ;  get  one  from 
the  overseer,  and  get  from  the  etag&re  the  glass  candle- 
stick which  my  brother  gave  me  for  my  birthday,  and 
put  in  a  wax  candle." 

At  last  all  was  ready.  Liza,  in  spite  of  her  moth- 
er's interference,  arranged  her  room  in  her  own  way 
for  the  two  officers. 

She   brought  out   clean   linen   sheets,  fragrant    of 

1  bdtiuthki  mo'i  I 


TWO  nUSSARS.  259 

mignonnette,  and  had  the  beds  made ;  she  ordered  a 
carafe  of  water  and  candles  near  it  on  the  little  table. 
She  burned  scented  paper  in  the  girls'  room,  and 
moved  her  own  little  bed  into  her  uncle's  chamber. 

Anna  Fedorovna  gradually  became  calm,  and  sat 
down  again  in  her  usual  place ;  she  even  took  out  her 
cards ;  but  instead  of  shuffling  them,  she  leaned  on 
her  fat  elbow,  and  gave  herself  up  to  her  thoughts. 

"How  time  has  gone!  how  time  has  gone!"  she 
exclaimed  in  a  whisper.  "It  is  long  !  long  !  isn't  it? 
I  seem  to  see  him  now  !     Akh !  he  was  a  scamp  !  " 

And  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  "Now  here  is 
Lizanka,  but  she  isn't  at  all  what  I  was  at  her  age. 
She  is  a  nice  girl ;  but  no,  not  quite  .  .   . 

"  Lizanka,  you  had  better  wear  your  mousselin-de- 
laine  dress  this  evening." 

"But  are  you  going  to  invite  them  down-stairs, 
mamasha?  You  had  better  not  do  it,"  rejoined  Liza, 
with  a  feeling  of  invincible  agitation  at  the  thought  of 
seeing  the  officers.     "  You  had  better  not,  mamasha  !  " 

In  point  of  fact,  she  did  not  so  much  desire  to  see 
them,  as  she  felt  apprehensive  of  some  painful  pleasure 
awaiting  her,  as  it  seemed  to  her. 

4 '  Perhaps  they  themselves  would  like  to  make  our 
acquaintance,  Lizotchka,"  said  Anna  Fedorovna,  glan- 
cing at  her  daughter's  hair,  and  at  the  same  time 
thinking,  "No,  not  such  hair  as  I  had  at  her  age. 
No,  Lizotchka,  how  much  I  could  wish  for  you  !  "  And 
she  really  wished  something  very  excellent  for  her 
daughter,  but  she  could  scarcely  look  forward  to  a 
match  with  the  count ;  she  could  not  desire  such  a  rela- 
tionship as  she  herself  had  formed  with  his  father ;  but 
that  something  good  would  come  of  it,  she  wished 
very,   very  much   for   her    daughter.      She    possibly 


2G0  TWO   HUSSARS. 

had  the  desire  to  live  over  again  in  her  daughter's 
happiness  all  the  life  which  she  lived  with  the  late 
count. 

The  old  cavalryman  was  also  somewhat  excited  by 
the  count's  coming.  He  went  to  his  room,  and  shut 
himself  up  in  it.  At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
he  re-appeared  dressed  in  a  Hungarian  coat  and  blue 
pantaloons ;  and  with  a  troubled-happy  expression  of 
countenance,  such  as  a  girl  wears  when  she  puts  on 
her  first  ball-dress,  he  started  for  the  room  assigned  to 
the  guests. 

M  We  shall  have  a  glimpse  of  some  of  the  hussars  of 
to-day,  sister.  The  late  count  was  indeed  a  genuine 
hussar.     We  shall  see  !  we  shall  see  !  " 

The  officers  had  by  this  time  come  in  by  the  back 
entrance,  and  were  in  the  room  that  had  been  put  at 
their  service. 

"There  now,"  said  the  count,  stretching  himself 
out  in  his  dusty  boots  on  the  bed  which  had  just  been 
made  for  him,  "if  we  aren't  better  off  here  than  we 
were  there  in  that  hovel  with  the  cockroaches  !  " 

"Better?  of  course;  but  think  what  obligations  we 
are  putting  ourselves  under  to  the  people  here." 

"  What  rubbish  !  You  must  always  be  a  practical 
man.  They  are  mighty  glad  to  have  us,  of  course. 
Fellow!"  cried  the  count,  "ask  some  one  to  put  a 
curtain  up  at  this  window,  else  there'll  be  a  draught  in 
the  night." 

At  this  moment  the  old  man  came  in  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  officers.  Though  he  was  some- 
what confused,  he  did  not  fail  to  tell  how  he  had  been 
a  comrade  of  the  late  count's,  who  had  been  very  con- 
genial to  him,  and  he  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 
more  than  once  he  had  been  under  obligations  to  the 


TWO   HUSSARS.  261 

late  count.  Whether  he  meant,  in  speaking  of  the 
obligations  to  the  late  count,  a  reference  to  the  hun- 
dred rubles  which  the  count  had  borrowed  and  never 
returned,  or  to  his  throwing  him  into  the  snow-drift,  or 
to  the  slap  in  the  face,  the  old  man  failed  to  explain. 

However,  the  count  was  very  urbane  with  the  old 
cavalryman,  and  thanked  him  for  his  hospitality. 

"  You  must  excuse  us  if  it  is  not  very  luxurious, 
count," — he  almost  said  "your  excellency,"  as  he 
had  got  out  of  the  habit  of  meeting  with  men  of  rank. 
"My  sister's  house  is  rather  small.  As  for  the  window 
here,  we  will  find  something  to  serve  as  a  curtain 
right  away,  and  it  will  be  first-rate,"  added  the  little 
old  man ;  and  under  the  pretext  of  going  for  a  curtain, 
but  really  because  he  wanted  to  give  his  report  about 
the  officers  as  quickly  as  possible,  he  left  the  room. 
The  pretty  little  Ustiushka  came,  bringing  her  mis- 
tress's shawl  to  serve  as  a  curtain.  She  was  also 
commissioned  to  ask  if  the  gentlemen  would  not  like 
some  tea. 

The  cheerful  hospitality  had  had  a  manifestly  benefi- 
cent influence  upon  the  count's  spirits.  He  laughed 
and  jested  with  Ustiushka  gayly,  and  went  to  such 
lengths  that  she  even  called  him  a  bad  man  ;  he  asked 
her  if  her  mistress  was  prett}',  and  in  reply  to  her 
question  whether  he  would  like  some  tea,  replied  that 
she  might  please  bring  him  some,  but  above  all,  as  his 
supper  was  not  ready,  he  would  like  some  vodka  now, 
and  a  little  lunch,  and  some  sherry  if  there  was  any. 

The  old  uncle  was  in  raptures  over  the  young  count's 
politeness,  and  praised  to  the  skies  the  3roung  genera- 
tion of  officers,  saying  that  the  men  of  the  present  day 
were  far  preferable  to  those  of  the  past. 

Anna  Fedorovua  could  not  agree  to  that,  —  no  one 


2G2  TWO  HUSSARS. 

could  be  any  better  than  Count  Fe6dor  Ivanovitch,  — 
and  she  was  beginning  to  grow  seriously  angry,  and 
remarked  dryly,  u  For  you,  brother,  the  one  who 
flatten  you  last  is  the  best!  Without  any  question, 
the  men  of  our  time  are  better  educated,  but  still  Feodor 
Ivanovitch  could  dance  the  schottische,  and  was  so 
amiable  that  everybody  in  his  day,  you  might  say, 
was  stupid  compared  to  him !  only  he  did  not  eare 
for  any  one  else  beside  me.  Oh,  certainly  there  were 
fine  men  in  the  old  time !  " 

At  this  moment  came  the  message  requesting  the 
vodka,  the  lunch,  and  the  sherry. 

44  There  now,  just  like  you,  brother  !  You  never  do 
things  right.  We  ought  to  have  had  supper  prepared. 
.   .  .  Liza,  attend  to  it,  that's  my  darling." 

Liza  hastened  to  the  storeroom  for  mushrooms  and 
fresh  cream  butter,  and  told  the  cook  to  prepare  beef 
cutlets. 

44  How  much  sherry  is  there?  Haven't  you  any 
left,  brother?" 

44  No,  sister;  I  never  have  had  any." 

44  What!  no  sherry?  but  what  is  it  you  drink  in 
your  tea?  " 

44  That  is  rum,  Anna  Fedorovna." 

44  Isn't  that  the  same  thing  ?  Give  them  some  of  that. 
It  is  all  the  same,  it'll  make  no  difference.  Or  would 
it  not  be  better  to  invite  them  down  here,  brother? 
You  know  all  about  it.  They  would  not  be  offended, 
I  imagine,  would  they?  " 

The  cavalryman  assured  her  that  he  would  answer 
for  it  that  the  count,  in  his  goodness  of  heart,  would 
not  deeline,  and  that  he  would  certainly  bring  them. 

Anna  Feodorovna  went  off  to  put  on,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  her  gros-grain  dress  and  a  new  cap  ;  but  Liza 


TWO  HUSSARS.  2G3 

was  so  busy  that  she  had  no  time  to  take  off  her  pink 
gingham  dress  with  wide  sleeves.  Moreover,  she  was 
terribly  wrought  up ;  it  seemed  to  her  that  something 
astonishing,  like  a  very  low  blaek  cloud,  was  sweeping 
down  upon  her  soul. 

This  count-hussar,  this  handsome  fellow,  seemed  to 
her  an  absolutely  novel  and  unexpected  but  beautiful 
creature.  His  character,  his  habits,  his  words,  it 
seemed  to  her,  must  be  something  extraordinary,  such 
as  had  never  come  into  the  range  of  her  experience. 
All  that  he  thought  and  said  must  be  bright  and 
true  ;  all  that  he  did  must  be  honorable ;  his  whole 
appearance  must  be  beautiful.  She  could  have  no 
doubt  of  that.  If  he  had  demanded  not  merely  a 
lunch  and  sherry,  but  even  a  bath  in  spirits  of  salvia, 
she  would  not  have  been  surprised,  she  would  not  have 
blamed  him,  and  she  would  have  been  convinced  that 
this  was  just  and  reasonable. 

The  count  immediately  accepted  when  the  cavalry- 
man  brought  him  his  sister's  invitation  ;  he  combed  his 
hair,  put  on  his  coat,  and  took  his  cigar-case. 

44  Will  you  come?  "  he  asked  of  Polozof. 

"  Indeed  we  had  better  not  go,"  replied  the  cornet; 
"  ils  feront  cles  frais  pour  nous  recevoir." 

"  Rubbish !  it  will  make  them  happy.  Besides,  I 
have  been  making  inquiries  .  .  .  there's  a  pretty 
daughter  here.  .  .  .  Come  along,"  said  the  count  in 
French. 

\*  Je  vous  en  prie,  messieurs ,"  said  the  cavalryman, 
merely  for  the  sake  of  giving  them  to  understand  that 
he  also  could  speak  French,  and  understood  what  the 
officers  were  saying. 


264  TWO    HUSSARS. 


XII. 


Liza,  red  in  the  face  and  with  downcast  eyes,  was 
ostensibly  occupied  with  filling  up  the  teapot,  and  did 
not  dare  to  look  at  the  officers  as  they  entered  the 
room. 

Anna  Fedorovna,  on  the  contrary,  briskly  jumped 
up  and  bowed,  and  without  taking  her  eyes  from  the 
count's  face  began  to  talk  to  him,  now  finding  an  ex- 
traordinary resemblance  to  his  father,  now  presenting 
her  daughter,  now  offering  him  tea,  meats,  or  jelly- 
cakes. 

No  one  paid  any  attention  to  the  cornet,  thanks  to 
his  modest  behavior ;  and  he  was  very  glad  of  it, 
because  it  gave  him  a  chance,  within  the  limits  of 
propriety,  to  observe  and  study  the  details  of  Liza's 
beauty,  which  had  evidently  come  over  him  with  the 
force  of  a  surprise. 

The  uncle  listening  to  his  sister's  conversation  had  a 
speech  ready  on  his  lips,  and  was  waiting  for  a  chance 
to  relate  his  cavalry  experiences. 

The  count  smoked  his  cigar  over  his  tea,  so  that  Liza 
had  great  difficulty  in  refraining  from  coughing,  but  he 
was  very  talkative  and  amiable ,'  at  first,  in  the  infre- 
quent pauses  of  Anna  Fedorovna's  conversation,  he 
introduced  his  own  stories,  and  finally  he  took  the 
conversation  into  his  own  hands. 

One  thing  struck  his  listeners  as  rather  strange :  in 
his  talk  he  often  used  words,  which,  though  not  con- 


TWO  HUSSARS.  2G5 

sidered  reprehensible  in  his  own  set,  were  here  rather 
audacious,  so  that  Anna  Fedorovna  was  a  little  abashed, 
and  Liza  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair.  But  this 
the  count  did  not  notice,  and  continued  to  be  just  as 
natural  and  amiable  as  ever. 

Liza  filled  the  glasses  in  silence,  not  putting  them 
into  the  hands  of  the  guests,  but  pushing  them  toward 
them ;  she  had  not  entirely  recovered  from  her  agita- 
tion, but  listened  eagerly  to  the  count's  anecdotes. 

The  count's  pointless  tales,  and  the  pauses  in  the 
conversation,  gradually  re-assured  her.  The  bright 
things  that  she  had  expected  from  him  were  not  forth- 
coming, nor  did  she  find  in  him  that  surpassing  ele- 
gance for  which  she  had  confusedly  hoped.  Even  as 
soon  as  the  third  glass  of  tea,  when  her  timid  eyes 
once  encountered  his,  and  he  did  not  avoid  them,  but 
continued  almost  too  boldly  to  stare  at  her,  with  a 
lurking  smile,  she  became  conscious  of  a  certain  feel- 
ing of  hostility  against  him ;  and  she  soon  discovered 
that  there  was  not  only  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  in 
him,  but  that  he  was  very  little  different  from  those 
whom  she  had  already  seen  ;  in  fact,  that  there  was  no 
reason  to  be  afraid  of  him.  She  noticed  that  he  had 
long  and  neat  finger-nails,  but  otherwise  there  was  no 
mark  of  special  beauty  about  him. 

Liza  suddenly,  not  without  some  inward  sorrow,  re- 
nouncing her  dream,  regained  her  self-possession  ;  and 
only  the  undemonstrative  cornet's  glance,  which  she  felt 
fixed  upon  her,  disquieted  her. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  not  the  count,  but  the  other,' *  she  said 
to  berself. 


266  TWO  HUSSARS. 


XIII. 

After  tea,  the  old  lady  invited  her  guests  into  the 
other  room,  and  again  sat  down  in  her  usual  place. 
u  But  perhaps  you  would  like  to  rest,  count?"  she 
asked.  "  Well,  then,  what  would  you  like  to  amuse 
yourselves  with,  my  dear  guests?"  she  proceeded  to 
ask  after  she  had  been  assured  to  the  contrary.  "  You 
play  cards,  do  you  not,  count?  —  Here,  brother,  you 
might  take  a  hand  in  some  game  or  other."  .  .  . 

44  Why,  you  yourself  can  play  preference"  replied 
the  cavalryman.  "  You  had  better  take  a  hand,  then. 
The  count  will  play,  will  he  not?    And  you?  " 

The  officers  were  agreeable  to  every  thing  that  might 
satisfy  their  amiable  hosts. 

Liza  brought  from  her  room  her  old  cards  which  she 
used  for  divining  whether  her.  mother  would  speedily 
recover  of  a  cold,  or  whether  her  uncle  would  return  on 
such  and  such  a  day  from  the  city  if  he  chanced  to  have 
gone  there,  or  whether  her  neighbor  would  be  in  during 
the  da}T,  and  other  like  things.  These  cards,  though 
the}'  had  been  in  use  for  two  months,  were  less  soiled 
than  those  which  Anna  Fedorovna  used  for  the  same 
purpose. 

44  Perhaps  you  are  not  accustomed  to  playing  for 
small  stakes,"  suggested  the  uncle.  "  Anna  Fedor- 
ovna and  I  play  for  half-kopeks,  and  then  she  always 
gets  the  better  of  all  of  us." 

44  Ah !  make  your  own  arrangements.  I  shall  be 
perfectly  satisfied,"  said  the  count. 


TWO   FIUSSARS.  2C7 

"  Well,  then,  be  it  in  paper  kopeks  for  the  sake  of 
our  dear  guests ;  only  let  me  gain,  as  I  am  old,"  said 
Anna  Fedorovna,  settling  herself  in  her  chair,  and 
adjusting  her  mantilla.  4;  Maybe  I  shall  win  a  ruble 
of  them,"  thought  Anna  Fedorovna,  who  in  her  old 
age  felt  a  little  passion  for  cards. 

"If  you  would  like,  I  will  teach  you  to  play  with 
tablets,"  said  the  count,  "and  with  the  miseries.  It 
is  very  jolly." 

Everybody  was  delighted  with  this  new  Petersburg 
fashion.  The  uncle  went  so  far  as  to  assert  that  he 
knew  it,  and  that  it  was  just  the  same  thing  as  boston, 
but  that  he  had  forgotten  somewhat  about  it. 

Anna  Fedorovna  did  not  comprehend  it  at  all ;  and 
it  took  her  so  long  to  get  into  it,  that  she  felt  under  the 
necessity  of  smiling  and  nodding  her  head  assuringly, 
to  give  the  impression  that  she  now  understood,  and 
that  now  it  was  all  perfectly  clear  to  her.  But  there 
was  no  little  amusement  created  when  in  the  midst  of 
the  game  Anna  Fedorovna,  with  ace  and  king  blank, 
called  umiserie"  and  remained  with  the  six.  She 
even  began  to  grow  confused,  smiled  timidly,  and  has- 
tened to  assure  them  that  she  had  not  as  yet  become 
accustomed  to  the  new  wa}\ 

Nevertheless  they  put  down  the  points  against  her, 
and  many  of  them  too ;  the  more  because  the  count, 
through  his  practice  of  playing  on  large  stakes,  played 
carefully,  led  very  prudently,  and  never  at  all  under- 
stood what  the  cornet  meant  by  sundry  raps  with  his 
foot  under  the  table,  or  why  he  made  such  stupid 
blunders  in  playing. 

Liza  brought  in  more  jelly-cakes,  three  kinds  of 
preserves,  and  apples  cooked  in  some  manner  with  port- 
wine  ;  and  then,  standing  behind  her  mother's  chair, 


268  TWO  HUSSARS. 

she  looked  on  at  the  game,  and  occasionally  watched 
the  officers,  aud  especially  the  count's  white  hands 
with  their  delicate  long  finger-nails,  as  be  with  such 
skill,  assurance,  and  grace,  threw  the  cards,  and  took 
the  tricks. 

Once  more  Anna  Fedorovna,  with  some  show  of  tem- 
per going  beyond  the  others,  bid  as  high  as  seven,  and 
lost  three  points ;  and  when,  at  her  brother's  institu- 
tion, she  tried  to  make  some  calculation,  she  found 
herself  utterly  confused  and  off  the  track. 

'fc  It's  nothing,  mamasha  ;  you'll  win  it  back  again, " 
said  Liza,  with  a  smile,  anxious  to  rescue  her  mother 
from  her  ridiculous  position.  "  Some  time  you'll  put  a 
fine  on  uncle:  then  he  will  be  caught." 

"But  you  might  help  me,  Lizotchka,"  cried  Anna 
Fedorovna,  looking  with  an  expression  of  dismay  at 
her  daughter;  "  I  don't  know  how  this  "  .  .   . 

"  But  I  don't  know  how  to  play  this  either,"  rejoined 
Liza,  carefully  calculating  her  mother's  losses.  "  But 
if  you  go  on  at  this  rate,  mamasha,  you  will  lose  a 
good  deal,  and  Pimotchka  will  not  have  her  new  dress," 
she  added  in  jest. 

"  Yes,  in  this  way  it  is  quite  possible  to  lose  ten 
silver  rubles,"  said  the  cornet,  looking  at  Liza,  and 
anxious  to  draw  her  into  conversation. 

"  Aren't  we  playing  for  paper  money  ?  "  asked  Anna 
Fedorovna,  gazing  round  at  the  rest. 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  replied  the  count. 
M  But  I  don't  know  how  to  reckon  in  bank-notes. 
What  are  they?  what  do  you  mean  by  bank-notes?  "  l 

u  Why,  no  one  nowadays  reckons  in  bank-notes," 
explained  the  cavalryman,  who  was  flaying  like  a  hero 
and  was  on  the  winning  side. 

1  Assignatsii. 


TWO   HUSSARS.  261) 

The  old  lady  ordered  some  sparkling  wine,  drank 
two  glasses  herself,  grew  quite  flushed,  and  seemed  to 
abandon  all  hope.  One  braid  of  her  gray  hair  es- 
caped from  under  her  cap,  and  she  did  not  even  put  it 
up.  It  was  evident  that  she  thought  herself  losing 
millions,  and  that  she  was  entirely  ruined.  The  cornet 
kept  nudging  the  count's  leg  more  and  more  emphati- 
cally. The  count  was  noting  down  the  old  lady's 
losses. 

At  last  the  game  came  to  an  end.  In  spite  of 
Anna  Fedorovna's  efforts  to  bring  her  reckoning  higher 
than  it  should  be,  and  to  pretend  that  she  had  been 
cheated  in  her  account,  and  that  it  could  not  be  cor- 
rect, in  spite  of  her  dismay  at  the  magnitude  of  her 
losses,  at  last  the  account  was  made  out,  and  she  was 
found  to  have  lost  nine  hundred  and  twenty  points. 

"  Isn't  that  equal  to  nine  paper  rubles  ?  "  she  asked 
again  and  again  ;  and  she  did  not  begin  to  realize  how 
great  her  forfeit  was,  until  her  brother,  to  her  horror, 
explained  that  she  was  "out"  thirty-two  and  a  half 
paper  rubles,  and  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for 
her  to  pay  it. 

The  count  did  not  even  sum  up  his  gains,  but,  as 
soon  as  the  game  was  over,  arose  and  went  over  to  the 
window  where  Liza  was  arranging  the  lunch,  and  put- 
ting potted  mushrooms  on  a  plate.  There  he  did  with 
perfect  calmness  and  naturalness  what  the  cornet  had 
been  anxious  and  yet  unable  to  effect  all  the  evening, 
—  he  engaged  her  in  conversation  about  the  weather. 

The  cornet  at  this  time  was  brought  into  a  thor- 
oughly unpleasant  predicament.  Anna  Fedorovna,  in 
the  absence  of  the  count  and  Liza,  who  had  managed  to 
keep  her  in  a  jovial  frame  of  mind,  became  really 
angry. 


270  TWO  HUSSARS. 

"  Indeed,  it  is  too  bad  that  we  have  caused  you  to 
lose  so  heavily,"  said  l\>16zof,  in  order  to  say  some- 
thing.    "It  is  simply  shameful." 

"  I  should  think  these  tablets  and  miseries  were  some- 
thing of  your  own  invention.  I  don't  know  any  thing 
about  them.  How  many  paper  rubles  does  the  whole 
amount  to?"  she  demanded. 

"Thirty-two  rubles,  thirty-two  and  a  half,"  in- 
sisted the  cavalryman,  who,  from  the  effect  of  having 
been  on  the  winning  side,  was  in  a  very  waggish  frame 
of  mind.  M  Give  him  the  money,  sister.  .  .  .  Give 
it  to  him." 

"I  will  give  all  I  owe,  only  you  must  not  ask  fcr 
any  more.     No,  I  shall  never  win  it  back  in  my  life." 

And  Anna  Fedorovna  went  to  her  room,  all  in  excite- 
ment, hurried  back,  and  brought  nine  paper  rubles. 
Only  on  the  old  man's  strenuous  insistence  she  was 
induced  to  pay  the  whole  sum.  Polozof  had  some  fear 
that  the  old  lady  would  pour  out  on  him  the  vials  of 
her  wrath  if  he  entered  into  conversation  with  her.  He 
silently,  without  attracting  attention,  turned  away,  and 
rejoined  the  count  and  Liza,  who  were  talking  at  the 
open  window. 

On  the  table,  which  was  now  spread  for  the  supper, 
stood  two  tallow  candles,  whose  flame  occasionally 
flickered  in  the  gentle  breeze  of  the  mild  May  night. 
Through  the  window  opening  into  the  garden  came 
a  very  different  light  from  that  which  filled  the  room. 
The  moon,  almost  at  its  full,  already  beginning  to 
lose  its  golden  radiance,  was  pouring  over  the  tops  of 
the  lofty  lindens,  and  making  brighter  and  brighter 
the  delicate  fleecy  clouds  that  occasionally  overcast 
it. 

From  the  pond,  the  surface  of  which,  silvered  in  one 


TWO  HUSSARS.  271 

place  by  the  moon,  could  be  seen  through  the  trees, 
came  the  voices  of  the  frogs.  In  the  sweet-scented 
lilac-bush  under  the  very  window,  which  from  time  to 
time  slowly  shook  its  heavy-laden  blossoms,  birds  were 
darting  and  fluttering. 

M  What  marvellous  weather!  **  said  the  count,  as  he 
joined  Liza,  and  sat  down  in  the  low  window-seat.  "  I 
suppose  you  go  to  walk  a  good  deal,  don't  you?  " 

"Yes,"  rejoined  Liza,  not  experiencing  the  slight- 
est embarrassment  in  the  count's  companj-.  "  Every 
morning,  at  seven  o'clock,  I  make  the  tour  of  the 
estate,  and  sometimes  I  take  a  walk  with  Pimotchka,  — 
mamma's  protegee.  " 

"It's  pleasant  living  in  the  country,"  cried  the 
count,  putting  his  monocle  to  his  eye,  and  gazing  first 
at  the  garden,  and  then  at  Liza.  "  But  don't  you  like 
to  take  a  walk  on  moonlight  nights?  " 

"  No.  Three  years  ago  my  uncle  and  I  used  to  go 
out  walking  every  moonlight  night.  He  had  some  sort 
of  strange  illness,  —  insomnia.  Whenever  there  was 
a  full  moon,  he  could  not  sleep.  His  room  like  this 
opens  into  the  garden,  and  the  window  is  low.  The 
moon  shines  right  into  it." 

"Strange,"  remarked  the  count.  "Then  this  is 
your  room." 

"No,  I  only  sleep  there  for  this  one  night.  You 
occupy  my  room." 

"Is  it  possible?  ...  oh,  good  heavens!1  I  shall 
never  in  the  world  forgive  myself  for  the  trouble  that 
I  have  caused,"  said  the  count,  casting  the  monocle 
from  his  eye  as  a  sign  of  sincerity.  .  .  .  "  If  I  had 
only  known  that  I  was  going  to  "   .  .  . 

"  How  much  trouble  was  it?     On  the  contrary,  I  am 

1  Akh!  Boshe  mo'i! 


272  TWO  I1USSARS. 

very  glad.  My  uncle's  room  is  so  nice  and  jolly : 
there's  a  low  window  there.  I  shall  sit  down  in  it  be- 
fore I  go  to  IhhI,  or  perhapfl  1  shall  go  down,  out  into 
the  garden,  and  take  a  little  walk." 

"  What  a  glorious  girl !  "  said  the  count  to  himself, 
replacing  the  monocle,  aud  staring  at  her,  and  while 
pretending  to  change  his  seat  in  the  window,  trying 
to  touch  her  foot  with  his.  "  Aud  how  shrewdly  she 
gave  me  to  understand  that  I  might  meet  her  in  the 
garden  at  the  window,  if  I  would  come  down  !  " 

Liza  even  lost  in  the  count's  eyes  a  large  share  of  her 
charm,  so  easy  did  the  conquest  of  her  seem  to  him. 

"And  how  blissful  it  must  be,"  said  the  count 
dreamily,  gazing  into  the  shadow-haunted  alley,  "  to 
spend  such  a  night  in  the  garden  with  the  object  of 
one's  love!  " 

Liza  was  somewhat  abashed  by  these  words,  and  by 
a  second  evidently  deliberate  pressure  upon  her  foot. 
Before  she  thought,  she  made  some  reply  for  the  sake 
of  dissimulating  her  embarrassment. 

She  said,  "  Yes,  it  is  splendid  to  walk  in  the  moon- 
light." 

There  was  something  disagreeable  about  the  whole 
conversation.  She  put  the  cover  on  the  jar  from 
which  she  had  been  taking  the  mushrooms,  and  was 
just  turning  from  the  window,  when  the  cornet  came 
toward  her,  and  she  felt  a  curiosity  to  know  what  kind 
of  a  man  he  was. 

"  What  a  lovely  night !  "  said  he. 

"  They  can  only  talk  about  the  weather,"  thought 
Liza. 

"What  a  wonderful  view!"  continued  the  cornet, 
11  only  I  should  think  it  would  be  tiresome,"  he  added 
through  a  strange  propensity,  peculiar  to  him,  of  saying 


TWO   HUSSARS.  273 

things  sure  to  offend  the  people  who  pleased  him  very 
much. 

M  Why  should  you  think  so?  Always  the  same 
cooking  and  always  the  same  dress  might  become  tire- 
some ;  but  a  lovely  garden  can  never  be  tiresome  when 
you  enjoy  walking,  and  especially  when  there's  a  moon 
rising  higher  and  higher.  From  my  uncle's  room  you 
can  see  the  whole  pond.  I  shall  see  it  from  there  to- 
night." 

"  And  you  haven't  any  nightingales  at  all,  have 
3'ou?"  asked  the  count,  greatly  put  out,  because  Polo- 
zof  had  come  and  prevented  him  from  learning  the 
exact  conditions  of  the  rendezvous. 

"Oh,  yes,  we  always  have  them  ;  last  year  the  hunt- 
ers caught  one  ;  and  last  week  there  was  one  that  sang 
beautifully,  but  the  district  inspector *  came  along  with 
his  bells,  and  scared  him  away.  .  .  .  Three  years  ago 
my  uncle  and  I  used  to  sit  out  in  the  covered  alley,  and 
listen  to  one  for  two  hours  at  a  time." 

4 'What  is  this  chatterbox  telling  you  about?"  in- 
quired the  old  uncle,  joining  the  trio.  "Aren't  you 
ready  for  something  to  eat  ?  " 

At  supper,  the  count  by  his  reiterated  praise  of  the 
viands,  and  his  appetite,  succeeded  somewhat  in  pacify- 
ing Anna  Fedorovna's  unhappy  state  of  mind.  After- 
wards the  officers  made  their  adieux,  and  went  to  their 
room.  The  count  shook  hands  with  the  old  cavalier, 
and,  to  Anna  Fedorovna's  surprise,  with  her,  without 
offering  to  kiss  her  hand  ;  and  he  also  squeezed  Liza's 
hand,  at  the  same  time  looking  straight  into  her  eyes, 
and  craftily  smiling  his  pleasing  smile.  This  glance 
again  somewhat  disconcerted  the  maiden.  "  He  is 
very  handsome,"  she  said  to  herself,  '„*  only  he  is 
quite  too  conceited." 


274  TWO  HUSSARS. 


XIV. 

"  Well,  now,  aren't  3*011  ashamed?"  exclaimed 
Polozof,  when  the  two  officers  had  reached  the  privac3r 
of  their  chamber.  "  I  tried  to  lose,  and  I  kept  nudg- 
ing you  under  the  table.  Now  aren't  you  really 
ashamed?    The  poor  old  lady  was  quit   beside  herself." 

The  count  burst  into  a  terrible  fit  of  laughter. 

"  A  most  amusing  dame  !     How  abused  she  felt !  " 

And  again  he  began  to  laugh  so  heartily  that  even 
Johann,  who  was  standing  in  front  of  him,  cast  down 
his  eyes  to  conceal  a  smile.  "  And  here  is  the  son  of 
an  old  family  friend!  Ha,  ha,  ha!"  continued  the 
count  in  a  gale  of  laughter. 

"  No,  indeed,  it  is  not  right.  I  felt  really  sorry  for 
her,"  said  the  cornet. 

"What  rubbish!  How  >Toung  you  are!  What! 
did  you  think  that  I  was  going  to  lose  ?  Wh}T  should  I 
lose?  I  only  lose  when  I  don't  know  any  better. 
Ten  rubles,  brother,  will  come  in  handy.  You  must 
look  on  life  in  a  practical  way,  or  else  you  will  always 
be  a  fool." 

Polozof  made  no  answer :  in  the  first  place,  he 
wanted  to  think  by  himself  about  Liza,  who  seemed 
to  him  to  be  an  extraordinarily  pure  and  beautiful 
creature. 

He  undressed,  and  lay  down  on  the  clean  soft  bed 
which  had  been  made  ready  for  him. 

"How  absurd   all   these   honors   and  the   glory  of 


two  hussars.  275 

war!"  he  thought  to  himself,  gazing  at  the  window 
shaded  by  the  shawl,  through  the  interstices  of  which 
crept  the  pale  rays  of  the  moon.  •«  Here  is  happiness 
—  to  live  in  a  quiet  nook,  with  a  gentle,  bright,  simple- 
hearted  wife  ;  that  is  enduring,  true  happiness." 

But  somehow  he  did  not  communicate  these  imagin- 
ations to  his  friend  ;  and  he  did  not  even  speak  of  the 
rustic  maiden,  though  he  felt  sure  that  the  count  was 
also  thinking  about  her. 

"Why  don't  you  undress?"  he  demanded  of  the 
count,  who  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  feel  like  sleeping  !  Put  out  the  candle 
if  you  like,"  said  he.     "  I  can  undress  in  the  dark." 

And  he  continued  to  walk  up  and  down. 

"He  does  not  feel  sleepy,"  repeated  Polozof,  who 
after  the  evening's  experiences  felt  more  than  ever 
dissatisfied  with  the  count's  influence  upon  him,  and 
disposed  to  revolt  against  it.  "I  imagine,"  he  rea- 
soned, mentally  addressing  Turbin,  "  what  thoughts 
are  now  trooping  through  that  well-combed  head  of 
yours.  And  I  saw  how  she  pleased  you.  But  you  are 
not  the  kind  to  appreciate  that  simple-hearted,  pure- 
minded  creature.  Mina  is  the  one  for  you,  you  want 
the  epaulets  of  a  colonel. — Indeed,  I  have  a  mind  to 
ask  him  how  he  liked  her." 

And  Polozof  was  about  to  address  him,  but  he  delib- 
erated :  he  felt  that  not  only  he  was  not  in  the  right 
frame  of  mind  to  discuss  with  him  if  the  count's  glance 
at  Liza  was  what  he  interpreted  it  to  be,  but  that  he 
should  not  have  the  force  of  mind  necessary  for  him 
to  disagree  with  him,  so  accustomed  was  he  to  submit 
to  an  influence  which  for  him  grew  each  day  more 
burdensome  and  unrighteous. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  he  asked,  as  the  count 
took  his  cap  and  went  to  the  door. 


276  TWO  HUSSARS. 

44 1  am  going  to  the  stable ;  I  wish  to  see  if  every 
thing  is  all  right." 

41  Strange!  "  thought  the  cornet;  but  he  blew  out 
the  candle,  and,  trying  to  dispel  the  absurdly  jealous 
and  hostile  thoughts  that  arose  against  his  former 
frk'iid,  he  turned  over  on  the  other  side. 

Anna  Fedorovua  meantime,  having  crossed  herself, 
and  kissed  her  brother,  her  daughter,  and  her  prottg6e, 
as  affectionately  as  usual,  also  retired  to  he*  room. 

Long  had  it  been  since  the  old  lady  had  experienced 
in  a  single  day  so  many  powerful  sensations.  She 
could  not  even  say  her  prayers  in  tranquillity ;  all  the 
melancholy  but  vivid  remembrances  of  the  late  count, 
and  of  this  young  dandy  who  had  so  ruthlessly  taken 
advantage  of  her,  kept  coming  up  in  her  mind. 

Nevertheless  she  undressed  as  usual,  and  drank  a 
half  glass  of  kvas  which  stood  ready  on  the  little  table 
near  the  bed,  and  lay  down.  Her  beloved  cat  came 
softly  into  the  room.  Anna  Fedorovna  called  her,  and 
began  to  stroke  her  fur,  and  listen  to  her  purring ;  but 
still  she  could  not  go  to  sleep. 

44  It  is  the  cat  that  disturbs  me,"  she  said  to  herself, 
and  pushed  her  away.  The  cat  fell  to  the  floor  softly, 
and,  slowly  waving  her  bushy  tail,  got  upon  the  oven  ; 1 
and  then  the  maid,  who  slept  in  the  room  on  the  floor, 
brought  her  felt,  and  put  out  the  candle,  after  lighting 
the  night-lamp. 

At  last  the  maid  began  to  snore ;  but  sleep  still  re- 
fused to  come  to  Anna  Fedorovna,  and  calm  her  ex- 
cited imagination.  The  face  of  the  hussar  constantly 
arose  before  her  mental  vision,  when  she  shut  her  eyes  ; 
and  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  appeared  in  various  strange 
guises   in   her  room,  when  she  opened  her  eyes   and 

1  The  lezhanka,  a  part  of  the  oven  built  out  as  a  8ort  of  cone* 


TWO  HUSSARS.  277 

looked  at  the  commode,  at  the  table,  and  her  white  rai- 
ment hanging  up  in  the  feeble  light  of  the  night-lamp. 
Then  it  seemed  hot  to  her  in  the  feather-bed,  and  the 
ticking  of  the  watch  on  the  table  seemed  unendurable  ; 
exasperating  to  the  last  degree,  the  snoring  of  the 
maid.     She  wakened  her,  and  bade  her  cease  snoring. 

Again  the  thoughts  of  the  old  count  and  of  the 
young  count,  and  of  the  game  of  preference,  became 
strangely  mixed  in  her  mind.  Now  she  seemed  to  see 
herself  waltzing  with  the  former  count;  she  saw  her 
own  round  white  shoulders,  she  felt  on  them  some  one's 
kisses,  and  then  she  saw  her  daughter  in  the  young 
count's  embrace. 

Once  more  Ustiushka  began  to  snore.   .  .  . 

44  No,  it's  somehow  different  now,  the  men  aren't  the 
same.  He  was  ready  to  fling  himself  into  the  fire  for 
my  sake.  Yes,  I  was  worth  doing  it  for !  But  this 
one,  have  no  fear,  is  sound  asleep  like  a  goose,  instead 
of  wooing.  How  his  father  fell  on  his  knees,  and  said, 
fc  Whatever  you  desire  I  will  do,  I  could  kill  myself  in 
a  moment ;  what  do  you  desire  ? '  And  he  would  have 
killed  himself,  if  I  had  bade  him  !  "  .  .  . 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  bare  feet  was  heard  in  the 
corridor ;  and  Liza  with  a  shawl  thrown  over  her  came 
in  pale  and  trembling,  and  almost  fell  on  her  mother's 
bed.  .  .  . 

After  saying  good-night  to  her  mother,  Liza  had 
gone  alone  to  the  room  that  had  been  her  uncle's. 
Putting  on  a  white  jacket,  throwing  a  handkerchief 
round  her  thick  long  braids,  she  put  out  the  light, 
opened  the  window,  and  curled  up  in  a  chair,  turning 
her  dreamy  eyes  to  the  pond  which  was  now  all  shining 
with  silver  brilliancy. 

All  her  ordinary  occupations  and  interests  came  up 


278  TWO  nUSSARS. 

before  her  now  in  an  entirely  different  light.  Her  ca- 
pricious old  mother,  unreasoning  love  for  whom  had 
become  a  part  of  her  very  soul,  her  feeble  but  amiable 
old  uncle,  the  domestics,  the  peasants  who  worshipped 
their  young  mistress,  the  milch  cows  and  the  calves  ;  all 
this  nature  which  was  forever  the  same  in  its  continual 
(hath  and  resurrection,  amid  which  she  had  grown  op, 
with  love  for  others,  and  with  the  love  of  others  for 
her,  —  all  this  that  gave  her  that  gentle,  agreeable 
peace  of  mind,  —  suddenly  seemed  to  her  something 
different ;  it  all  seemed  to  her  dismal,  superfluous. 

It  was  as  though  some  one  said  to  her,  ••  Fool,  fool ! 
For  twenty  years  you  have  been  occupied  in  trivialities, 
you  have  been  serving  others  without  reason,  and  you 
have  not  knowu  what  life,  what  happiness,  were  !  " 

This  was  what  she  thought  now  as  she  gazed  down 
into  the  depths  of  the  motionless  moonlit  garden,  and 
the  thought  came  over  her  with  vastly  more  force  than 
ever  before.  And  what  was  it  that  induced  this  train 
of  thought  ?  It  was  not  in  the  least  a  sudden  love  for 
the  count,  as  might  easily  be  supposed.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  did  not  please  her.  It  might  rather  have  been 
the  cornet  of  whom  she  was  thinking ;  but  he  was 
homely,  poor,  and  taciturn. 

41  No,  it  isn't  that,"  she  said  to  herself. 

Her  ideal  was  so  charming !  It  was  an  ideal  which 
might  have  been  loved  in  the  midst  of  this  night,  in 
the  midst  of  this  nature,  without  infringing  its  supernal 
beauty  ;  an  ideal  not  in  the  least  circumscribed  by  the 
necessity  of  reducing  it  to  coarse  reality. 

In  days  gone  by,  her  lonely  situation,  and  the  absence 
of  people  who  might  have  attracted  her,  caused  that 
all  the  strength  of  the  love  which  Providence  has  im 
planted  impartially  in  the  hearts  of  each   one  of  us, 


TWO   HUSSARS.  279 

was  still  intact  and  potential  in  her  soul.  But  now  she 
had  been  living  too  long  with  the  pathetic  happiness  of 
feeling  that  she  possessed  in  her  heart  this  something, 
and  occasionally  opening  the  mysterious  chalice  of  her 
heart,  of  rejoicing  in  the  contemplation  of  its  riches, 
ready  to  pour  out  without  stint  on  some  one  all  that  it 
contained. 

God  grant  that  she  may  not  have  to  take  this  mel- 
ancholy delight  with  her  to  the  tomb  !  But  who  knows 
if  there  be  any  better  and  more  powerful  delight,  or  if 
it  is  not  the  only  true  and  possible  one? 

"  O  Father  in  heaven,"  she  thought,  "  is  it  possible 
that  I  have  lost  my  youth  and  my  happiness,  and  that 
they  will  never  return?  .  .  .  Will  they  never  return 
again  ?  is  it  really  true  ?  ' ' 

She  gazed  in  the  direction  of  the  moon  at  the  bright 
far-off  sky,  studded  with  white  wavy  clouds,  which,  as 
they  swept  on  toward  the  moon,  blotted  out  the  little 
stars. 

"  If  the  moon  should  seize  that  little  cloud  above  it, 
then  it  means  that  it  is  true,"  she  thought.  A  thin 
smoke-like  strip  of  cloud  passed  over  the  lower  half 
of  the  brilliant  orb,  and  gradually  the  light  grew  fainter 
on  the  turf,  on  the  linden  tops,  on  the  pond  :  the  black 
shadows  of  the  trees  grew  less  distinct.  And  as  though 
to  harmonize  with  the  gloomy  shade  which  was  envel- 
oping nature,  a  gentle  breeze  stirred  through  the  leaves, 
and  brought  to  the  window  the  dewy  fragrance  of  the 
leaves,  the  moist  earth,  and  the  blooming  lilacs. 

"  No,  it  is  not  true!  "  she  said,  trying  to  console 
herself ;  u  but  *f  the  nightingale  should  sing  this  night, 
then  I  should  take  it  to  mean  that  all  mj'  forebodings 
are  nonsense,  and  that  there  is  no  need  of  losing  hope." 

And  long  she   sat   in  silence,  as  though  expecting 


280  TWO  HUSSARS. 

some  one,  while  once  more  all  grew  bright  and  full  of 
life  ;  and  then  again  and  again  the  clouds  passed  over 
the  moon,  and  all  became  sombre. 

She  was  even  beginning  to  grow  drowsy,  as  she  sat 
there  b}'  the  window,  when  she  was  aroused  by  the 
nightingale's  melodious  trills  clearly  echoing  across 
tlir  pond.  The  rustic  maiden  opened  her  eyes.  Once 
more,  with  a  new  enjoyment,  her  whole  soul  was  dedi- 
cated to  that  mysterious  union  with  the  nature  which 
so  calmly  and  serenely  spread  out  before  her. 

She  leaned  on  both  elbows.  A  certain  haunting 
sensation  of  gentle  melancholy  oppressed  her  heart ; 
and  tears  of  pure,  deep  love,  binning  for  satisfaction, 
good  consoling  tears,  sprang  to  her  eyes. 

She  leaned  her  arms  on  the  window-sill,  and  rested 
her  head  upon  them.  Her  favorite  prayer  seemed  of 
its  own  accord  to  arise  in  her  soul,  and  thus  she  fell 
asleep  with  moist  eyes. 

The  pressure  of  some  one's  hand  awakened  her. 
She  started  up.  But  the  touch  was  gentle  and  pleas- 
ant.    The  hand  squeezed  hers  with  a  stronger  pressure. 

Suddenly  she  realized  the  true  state  of  things, 
screamed,  tore  herself  away ;  and  trying  to  make  her- 
self believe  that  it  was  not  the  count  who,  bathed  in  the 
brilliant  moonlight,  was  standing  in  front  of  her  window, 
she  hastened  from  the  room. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  281 


XV. 


It  was  indeed  the  count.  When  he  heard  the  maid- 
en's cry,  and  the  cough  of  the  watchman  who  was 
coming  from  the  other  side  of  the  fence  in  reply  to  the 
shriek,  he  had  the  sensation  of  being  a  thief  caught  in 
the  act,  and  started  to  run  across  the  dew-drenched 
grass,  so  as  to  hide  in  the  depths  of  the  garden. 

"  Oh,  what  a  fool  I  was  !  "  he  said  instinctively.  "  I 
frightened  her.  I  ought  to  have  been  more  gentle,  to 
have  wakened  her  by  gentle  words.  Oh  !  I  am  a  beast, 
a  blundering  beast." 

He  paused  and  listened.  The  watchman  had  come 
through  the  wicket-gate  into  the  garden,  dragging  his 
cane  along  the  sanded  walk. 

He  must  hide.  He  went  toward  the  pond.  The 
frogs  made  him  tremble  as  they  hastily  sprang  from 
under  his  very  feet  into  the  water.  There,  notwith- 
standing his  wet  feet,  he  crouched  down  on  his  heels, 
and,  began  to  recall  all  he  had  done,  —  how  he  had 
crept  through  the  hedge,  found  her  window,  and  at 
last  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  white  shadow  ;  how  several 
times,  while  on  the  watch  for  the  least  noise,  he  had 
hastened  away  from  the  window ;  how  at  one  moment 
it  seemed  to  him  that  doubtless  she  was  waiting  for 
him  with  vexation  in  her  heart  that  he  was  so  dilatory, 
and  the  next  how  impossible  it  seemed  that  she  would 
make  an  appointment  with  him  so  easily ;  and  how, 
finally  coming  to  the  conclusion,  that,  through  the  em- 


282  TWO  HUSSARS. 

harrassmcnt  n.-itunillv  felt  by  a  country  maiden,  she  was 
only  pretending  to  be  asleep,  he  had  resolutely  gone 
up  to  the  window,  and  seen  clearly  her  position,  :m<l 
then  suddenly,  for  some  occult  reason,  had  run  away 
again  ;  and  only  after  a  powerful  effort  of  self-control, 
being  ashamed  of  his  cowardice,  he  had  gone  boldly  up 
to  her  and  touched  her  on  the  hand. 

The  watchman  again  coughed,  and,  shutting  the 
squeaky  gate,  went  out  of  the  garden.  The  window 
in  the  young  girl's  room  was  shut,  and  the  wooden 
shutters  inside  were  drawn. 

The  count  was  terribly  disappointed  to  see  this.  He 
would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  have  a  chance  to 
begin  it  all  over  again ;  he  would  not  have  acted  so 
stupidly. 

44  A  marvellous  girl !  what  freshness  !  simply  charm- 
ing !     And  so  I  lost  her.     Stupid  beast  that  I  was." 

However,  as  he  was  not  iu  the  mood  to  go  to  sleep 
yet,  he  walked,  as  chance  should  lead,  along  the  path, 
through  the  linden  alley,  with  the  resolute  steps  of  a 
man  who  has  been  angry.  And  now  for  him  also  this 
night  brought,  as  its  gifts  of  reconciliation,  a  strange, 
calming  melancholy,  and  a  craving  for  love. 

The  clay  path,  here  and  there  dotted  with  sprouting 
grass  or  dry  twigs,  was  lighted  by  patches  of  pale  light 
where  the  moon  sent  its  rays  straight  through  the  thick 
foliage  of  the  lindens.  Here  and  there  a  bending 
bough,  apparently  overgrown  with  gray  moss,  gleamed 
on  one  side.     The  silvered  foliage  occasionally  rustled. 

At  the  house  there  was  no  light  in  the  windows  ;  all 
sounds  were  hushed,  only  the  nightingale  filled  with  his 
song  all  the  immensity  of  silent  and  glorious  space. 

44  My  God  !  what  a  night !  what  a  marvellous  night !  " 
thought  the   count,  breathing  in  the   fresh  fragrance 


TWO  HUSSARS.  283 

of  the  garden.  "Something  makes  me  feel  blue,  as 
though  I  were  dissatisfied  with  myself  and  with  others, 
and  dissatisfied  with  my  whole  life.  But  what  a  splen- 
did, dear  girl!  Perhaps  she  was  really  offended." 
Here  his  fancies  changed.  He  imagined  himself  there 
in  the  garden  with  this  district  maiden  in  various  and 
most  remarkable  situations ;  then  his  mistress  Mina 
supplanted  the  maiden's  place. 

"  What  a  fool  I  am !  I  ought  simply  to  have  put  my 
arm  around  her  waist,  and  kissed  her." 

And  with  this  regret  the  count  returned  to  his  room. 
The  cornet  was  not  yet  asleep.  He  immediately  turned 
over  in  bed,  and  looked  at  the  count. 

14  Aren't  you  asleep?  "  asked  the  count. 

"No." 

44  Shall  I  tell  you  what  happened?  " 

"Well." 

44  No,  L'd  better  not  tell  you.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  will  too. 
Move  your  legs  over  a  little." 

And  the  count,  who  had  already  given  up  vain  regret 
for  his  unsuccessful  intrigue,  sat  down  with  a  gay  smile 
on  his  comrade's  bed.  "Could  you  imagine  that  the 
young  lady  of  the  house  gave  me  a  rendezvous  ? ' ' 

"  What  is  that  you  say  ?  "  screamed  Polozof,  leaping 
up  in  bed. 

"Well,  now  listen." 

44  But  how?    When?    It  can't  be  !  " 

44  See  here  :  while  you  were  making  out  }'Our  accounts 
in  preference,  she  told  me  that  she  would  this  night  be 
sitting  at  the  window,  and  that  it  was  possible  to  get 
in  at  that  window.  Now,  this  is  what  it  means  to  be  a 
practical  man :  while  you  were  there  reckoning  up  with 
the  old  woman,  I  was  arranging  this  little  affair.  You 
yourself  heard  her  say  right  out  in  your  presence,  that 


284  TWO  I1USSARS. 

she  was  going  to  sit  at  the  window  to-night,  and  look 
at  the  pond." 

44  Yes,  but  she  said  that  without  any  meaning  in  it." 

44 1  am  not  so  sure  whether  she  said  it  purposely  or 
otherwise.  Maybe  she  did  not  wish  to  come  at  it  all 
at  once,  only  it  looked  like  that.  But  a  wretched  piece 
of  work  came  out  of  it.  Like  a  perfect  fool  I  spoilt 
the  whole  thing,"  he  added,  scornfully  smiling  at 
himself. 

44  Well,  what  is  it?    Where  have  you  been? " 

The  count  told  him  the  whole  story,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  his  irresolute  and  repeated  advances.  u  I 
spoilt  it  myself ;  I  ought  to  have  been  bolder.  She 
screamed,  and  ran  away  from  the  window." 

44  Then  she  screamed  and  ran  away?"  repeated  the 
cornet,  replying  with  a  constrained  smile  to  the  count's 
smile,  which  had  such  a  long  and  powerful  influence 
upon  him. 

44  Yes,  but  now  it's  time  to  go  to  sleep." 

Polozof  again  turned  his  back  to  the  door,  and  lay  in 
silence  for  ten  minutes.  God  knows  what  was  going 
on  in  his  soul ;  but  when  he  turned  over  again,  his  face 
was  full  of  passion  and  resolution. 

44  Count  Turbin,"  said  he  in  a  broken  voice. 

44 Are  you  dreaming,  or  not?"  replied  the  count 
calmly.     44  What  is  it,  comet  Polozof?  " 

44  Count  Turbin,  you  are  a  scoundrel,"  cried  Polozof, 
and  he  sprang  from  the  bed. 


TWO  HUSSARS.  285 


XVI. 

The  next  day  the  battalion  departed.  The  officers 
did  not  see  any  of  the  household,  or  bid  them  farewell. 
Neither  did  they  speak  together. 

It  was  understood  that  they  were  to  fight  their  duel 
when  they  came  to  the  next  halting-place.  But  Captain 
Schultz,  a  good  comrade,  an  admirable  horseman,  who 
was  loved  by  everybody  in  the  regiment,  and  had  been 
chosen  by  the  count  for  his  second,  succeeded  in  ar- 
ranging the  affair  in  such  a  manner  that  not  only  they 
did  not  fight,  but  that  no  one  in  the  regiment  knew 
about  the  matter ;  and  Turbin  and  Polozof ,  though  their 
old  relations  of  friendship  were  never  restored,  still 
said  "  thou,"  and  met  at  meals  and  at  the  gaming- 
table. 


THEEE   DEATHS. 

A    TALE. 
1859. 


I. 

It  was  autumn. 

Along  the  highway  came  two  equipages  at  a  brisk 
pace.  In  the  first  carriage  sat  two  women.  One  was 
a  lady,  thin  and  pale.  The  other,  her  maid,  with  a 
brilliant  red  complexion,  and  plump.  Her  short,  dry 
locks  escaped  from  under  a  faded  cap ;  her  red  hand, 
in  a  torn  glove,  put  them  back  with  a  jerk.  Her  full 
bosom,  incased  in  a  tapestry  shawl,  breathed  of  health  ; 
her  restless  black  eyes  now  gazed  through  the  window 
at  the  fields  hurrying  by  them,  now  rested  on  her  mis- 
tress, now  peered  solicitously  into  the  corners  of  the 
coach. 

Before  the  maid's  face  swung  the  lady's  bonnet  on 
the  rack ;  on  her  knees  lay  a  puppy ;  her  feet  were 
raised  by  packages  lying  on  the  floor,  and  could  al- 
most be  heard  drumming  upon  them  above  the  noise 
of  the  creaking  of  the  springs,  and  the  rattling  of  the 
windows. 

The  lady,  with  her  hands  resting  in  her  lap  and  her 
eyes  shut,  feebly  swayed  on  the  cushions  which  sup- 
ported her  back,  and,  slightly  frowning,  struggled  with 
a  cough. 
286 


THREE   DEATHS.  287 

She  wore  a  white  nightcap,  and  a  blue  neckerchief 
twisted  around  her  delicate  pale  neck.  A  straight 
line,  disappearing  under  the  cap,  parted  her  blonde 
hair,  which  was  smoothly  pomaded ;  and  there  was  a 
dry,  deathly  appearance  about  the  whiteness  of  the 
skin  in  this  simple  parting.  The  withered  and  rather 
sallow  skin  was  loosely  drawn  over  her  delicate  and 
pretty  features,  and  there  was  a  hectic  flush  on  the 
cheeks  and  cheek-bones.  Her  lips  were  dry  and  rest- 
less, her  thin  eyelashes  had  lost  their  curve,  and  a  cloth 
travelling  capote  made  straight  folds  over  her  sunken 
chest.  Although  her  eyes  were  closed,  her  face  gave 
the  impression  of  weariness,  irascibility,  and  habitual 
suffering. 

The  lackey,  leaning  back,  was  napping  on  the  coach- 
box. The  hired  driver,1  shouting  in  a  clear  voice,  urged 
on  his  four  powerful  and  sweat\r  horses,  occasionally 
looking  back  at  the  other  driver,  who  was  shouting  just 
behind  them  in  an  open  barouche.  The  tires  of  the 
wheels,  in  their  even  and  rapid  course,  left  wide  paral- 
lel tracks  on  the  limy  mud  of  the  highway. 

The  sky  was  gray  and  cold,  a  moist  mist  was  falling 
over  the  fields  and  the  road.  It  was  suffocating  in  the 
carriage,  and  smelt  of  eau-de-cologne  and  dust.  The 
invalid  leaned  back  her  head,  and  slowly  opened  her 
eyes.  Her  great  eyes  were  brilliant,  and  of  a  beautiful 
dark  color.  "Again!"  said  she,  nervously  pushing 
away  with  her  beautiful  attenuated  hand  the  end  of  her 
maid's  cloak,  which  occasional^  hit  against  her  knee. 
Her  mouth  contracted  painfull}'. 

Matriosha  raised  her  cloak  in  both  hands,  lifting  her- 
self up  on  her  strong  legs,  and  then  sat  down  again, 
farther  away.  Her  fresh  face  was  suffused  with  a 
brilliant  scarlet. 

1  yamshchik. 


2SS  THREE  DEATHS. 

The  invalid's  handsome  dark  eyes  eagerly  followed 
the  maid's  motions  ;  and  then  with  both  hands  she  took 
hold  of  the  seat,  and  did  her  best  to  raise  herself  a 
little  higher,  but  her  strength  was  not  sufficient. 

Again  her  mouth  became  contracted,  and  her  whole 
face  took  on  an  expression  of  unavailing,  angry  irony. 

"  If  you  would  only  help  me.  ...  Ah !  It's  not 
necessary.  I  can  do  it  myself.  Only  have  the  good- 
ness not  to  put  those  pillows  behind  me.  ...  On  the 
whole,  you  had  better  not  touch  them,  if  you  dou't 
understand!  " 

The  lady  closed  her  eyes,  and  then  again,  quickly 
raising  the  lids,  gazed  at  her  maid. 

Matriosha  looked  at  her,  and  gnawed  her  red  lower 
lip.  A  heavy  sigh  escaped  from  the  sick  woman's 
breast ;  but  the  sigh  was  not  ended,  but  was  merged 
in  a  fit  of  coughing.  She  scowled,  and  turned  her  face 
away,  clutching  her  chest  with  both  hands.  When  the 
coughing  fit  was  over,  she  once  more  shut  her  eyes, 
and  continued  to  sit  motionless.  The  coach  and  the 
barouche  rolled  into  the  village.  Matriosha  drew  her 
fat  hand  from  under  her  shawl,  and  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross. 

"  What  is  this?  "  demanded  the  lady. 

"A  post-station,  madame." 

"  Why  did  you  cross  yourself,  I  should  like  to 
know?" 

"The  church,  madame." 

The  lady  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  began  slowly 
to  cross  herself,  gazing  with  all  her  eyes  at  the  great 
village  church,  in  front  of  which  the  invalid's  carriage 
was  now  passing. 

The  two  vehicles  came  to  a  stop  together  at  the 
post-house.     The  sick  woman's  husband  and  the  doc- 


THREE   D  EAT  IIS.  289 

tor  dismounted  from  the  barouche,  and  came  to  the 
coach. 

"  How  are  you  feeling?  "  asked  the  doctor,  taking 
her  pulse. 

"Well,  my  clear,  aren't  you  fatigued?"  asked  the 
husband,  in  French.  "Wouldn't  you  like  to  go 
out?" 

Matriosha,  gathering  up  the  bundles,  squeezed  her- 
self into  the  corner,  so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the 
conversation. 

"No  matter,  it's  all  the  same  thing,"  replied  the 
invalid.     "  I  will  not  get  out." 

The  husband,  after  standing  there  a  little  while, 
went  into  the  post-house.  Matriosha,  jumping  from 
the  carriage,  tiptoed  across  the  muddy  road,  into  the 
enclosure. 

"If  I  am  miserable,  there  is  no  reason  why  the 
rest  of  you  should  not  have  breakfast,"  said  the  sick 
woman,  smiling  faintly  to  the  doctor,  who  was  standing 
by  her  window. 

"It  makes  no  difference  to  them  how  I  am,"  she 
remarked  to  herself  as  the  doctor,  turning  from  her 
with  slow  step,  started  to  run  up  the  steps  of  the  station- 
house.  "  They  are  well,  and  it's  all  the  same  to  them. 
O  my  God!" 

"  How  now,  Eduard  Ivanovitch,"  said  the  husband, 
as  he  met  the  doctor,  and  rubbing  his  hands  with  a  gay 
smile.  "I  have  ordered  my  travelling-case  brought; 
what  do  you  say  to  that?  " 

"That's  worth  while,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"Well  now,  how  about  kerf"  asked  the  husband 
with  a  sigh,  lowering  his  voice  and  raising  his  brows. 

"I  have  told  you  that  she  cannot  reach  Moscow, 
much  less  Italy,  especially  in  such  weather." 


290  THREE   DEATHS. 

"What  is  to  be  doue,  then?  Oh!  my  God!  my 
God!" 

The  husband  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand.  .  .  . 
44  Give  it  here,"  Km  Added,  addressing  his  man,  who 
came  bringing  the  travelling-case. 

41  You'll  have  to  stop  somewhere  on  the  route," 
replied  the  doctor,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

4k  But  tell  me,  how  can  that  be  done?  "  rejoined  the 
husband.  "  I  have  done  every  thing  to  keep  her  from 
going  :  I  have  spoken  to  her  of  our  means,  and  of  our 
children  whom  we  should  have  to  leave  behind,  and  of 
my  business.  She  would  not  hear  a  word.  She  has 
made  her  plans  for  living  abroad,  as  though  she  were 
well.  But  if  I  should  tell  her  what  her  real  condition 
is,  it  would  kill  her." 

44  Well,  she  is  a  dead  woman  now :  jtou  may  as  well 
know  it,  Vasili  Dmitritch.  A  person  cannot  live  with- 
out lungs,  and  there  is  no  way  of  making  lungs  grow 
again.  It  is  melancholy,  it  is  hard,  but  what  is  to  be 
done  about  it?  It  is  my  business  and  yours  to  make 
her  last  days  as  easy  as  possible.  It  is  the  confessor 
that  is  needed  here  " 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  Now  just  perceive  how  I  am  situ- 
ated, in  speaking  to  her  of  her  last  will.  Let  come 
whatever  may,  yet  I  cannot  speak  of  that.  And  yet 
you  know  how  good  she  is." 

"Try  at  least  to  persuade  her  to  wait  until  the 
roads  are  frozen,"  said  the  doctor,  shaking  his  head 
significantly:  4t  something  might  happen  during  the 
journey." 

"Akshisha,  oh,  Aksiiisha !  "  cried  the  superintend- 
ent's daughter,  throwing  a  cloak  over  her  head  and 
tiptoeing  down  the  muddy  back  steps.     44Come  along. 


THREE   DEATHS.  291 

Let  us  have  a  look  at  the  Shirkinskaya  lady :  they  say 
she's  got  lung-trouble,  and  they're  taking  her  abroad. 
I  never  saw  how  any  one  looked  in  consumption." 

Aksiusha  jumped  down  from  the  door-sill ;  and  the 
two  girls,  hand  in  hand,  hurried  out  of  the  gates. 
Shortening  their  steps,  they  walked  by  the  coach,  and 
stared  in  at  the  lowered  window.  The  invalid  bent  her 
head  toward  them ;  but  when  she  saw  their  inquisitive- 
ness,  she  frowned  and  turnecl  away. 

"  Oh,  de-e-ar !  "  said  the  superintendent's  daughter, 
vigorously  shaking  her  head.  .  .  .  "  How  wonderfully 
pretty  she  used  to  be,  and  how  she  has  changed  !  It  is 
terrible  !     Did  you  see?     Did  you  see,  Aksiiisha?  " 

"  Yes,  but  how  thin  she  is!"  assented  Aksiusha. 
"  Let  us  go  by  and  look  again  ;  we'll  make  believe  go 
to  the  well.  Did  you  see,  she  turned  away  from  us ; 
still  I  got  a  good  view  of  her.  Isn't  it  too  bad, 
Masha?" 

"  Yes,  but  what  terrible  mud  !  "  replied  Masha,  and 
both  of  them  started  to  run  back  within  the  gates. 

"  It's  evident  that  I  have  become  a  fright,"  thought 
the  sick  woman.  ..."  But  we  must  hurry,  hurry,  and 
get  abroad,  and  there  I  shall  soon  get  well." 

"Well,  and  how  are  you,  my  dear?"  inquired  the 
husband,  coming  to  the  carriage  with  still  a  morsel  of 
something  in  his  mouth. 

"Always  one  and  the  same  question,"  thought  the 
sick  woman,  "and  he's  even  eating!  " 

"It's  no  consequence,"  she  murmured  between  her 
teeth. 

"  Do  you  know,  m}7  dear,  I  am  afraid  that  this  jour- 
ney in  such  weather  will  only  make  you  worse. 
Eduard  Ivanitch  says  the  same  thing.  Hadn't  we 
better  turn  back  ?  ' ' 


292  THREE  DEATHS. 

She  maintained  an  angry  silence. 

"  The  weather  will  Improve  maybe,  the  roads  will 
become  good,  and  that  would  be  better  for  you  ;  then 
at  least  we  could  start  all  together." 

"  Pardon  me.  If  I  had  not  listened  to  you  so  long, 
I  should  at  this  moment  be  at  Berlin  and  have  entirely 
recovered." 

M  What's  to  be  done,  my  angel?  it  was  impossible,  as 
you  know.  But  now  if  you  would  wait  a  month,  you 
would  be  ever  so  much  better ;  I  could  finish  up  my 
business,  and  we  could  take  the  children  with  us." 

"  The  children  are  well,  and  I  am  ill." 

u  But  just  see  here,  my  love,  if  in  this  weather  you 
should  grow  worse  on  the  road.  ...  At  least  we 
should  be  at  home." 

uWhat  is  the  use  of  being  at  home?  .  .  .  Die  at 
home?"  replied  the  invalid  peevishly. 

But  the  word  die  evidently  startled  her,  and  she 
turned  upon  her  husband  a  supplicating  and  inquiring 
look.     He  dropped  his  eyes,  and  said  nothing. 

The  sick  woman's  mouth  suddenly  contracted  in  a 
childish  fashion,  and  the  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes. 
Her  husband  covered  his  face  with  his  handkerchief, 
and  silently  turned  from  the  carriage. 

"  No,  I  will  go,"  cried  the  invalid ;  and  lifting  her 
eyes  to  the  sky,  she  clasped  her  hands,  and  began  to 
whisper  incoherent  words.  "My  God!  why  must  it 
be?"  she  said,  and  the  tears  flowed  more  violently. 
She  prayed  long  and  fervently,  but  still  there  was  just 
the  same  sense  of  constriction  and  pain  in  her  chest, 
just  the  same  gray  melancholy  in  the  sky  and  the  fields 
and  the  road ;  just  the  same  autumnal  mist,  neither 
thicker  nor  more  tenuous,  but  ever  the  same  in  its 
monotony,  falling  on  the  muddy  highway,  on  the  roofs, 


THREE  DEATHS.  293 

on  the  carriage,  and  on  the  sheepskin  coats  of  the 
drivers,  who  were  talking  in  strong,  gay  voices,  as  they 
were  oiling  and  adjusting  the  carriage. 


294  THREE   DEATHS. 


II. 


The  coach  was  ready,  but  the  driver  loitered.  He 
had  gone  into  the  driver's  cottage,1  where  it  was  warm, 
close,  dark,  and  suffocating ;  smelling  of  human  occu- 
pation, of  cooking  bread,  of  cabbage,  and  of  sheepskin 
garments. 

Several  drivers  were  in  the  room ;  the  cook  was 
engaged  near  the  oven,  on  top  of  which  lay  a  sick  man 
wrapped  up  in  pelts. 

44 Uncle  Khveodor!  hey!  Uncle  Khveodor,"  called 
a  young  man,  the  driver,  in  a  tulup,  and  with  his  knout 
in  his  belt,  coming  into  the  room,  and  addressing  the 
sick  man. 

"What  do  you  want,  rattlepate?  What  are  you 
calling  to  Fyedka 2  for  ?  "  demanded  one  of  the  drivers. 
"  There's  your  carriage  waiting  for  you." 

44 1  want  to  borrow  his  boots.  Mine  are  worn  out," 
replied  the  young  fellow,  tossing  back  his  curls  and 
straightening  his  mittens  in  his  belt.  44Why?  is  he 
asleep?  Say,  Uncle  Khveodor !  "  he  insisted,  going  to 
the  oven. 

44  What  is*  it?  "  a  weak  voice  was  heard  saying,  and 
a  blowsy,  emaciated  face  was  lifted  up  from  the  oven. 

A  broad,  gaunt  hand,  bloodless  and  covered  with 
hairs,  pulled  up  his  overcoat  over  the  dirty  shirt  that 
covered  his  bony  shoulder.  44  Give  me  something  to 
drink,  brother ;  what  is  it  you  want?  " 

1  izba.  *  Fyedka  and  Fyedya  are  diminutives  of  Feodor,  Theodore. 


THREE   DEATHS.  295 

The  young  fellow  handed  him  a  small  dish  of  water. 

u  I  say,  Fye\lya,"  said  he,  hesitating,  M  I  reckon  you 
won't  want  your  new  boots  now;  let  me  have  them? 
Probably  you  won't  need  them  any  more." 

The  sick  man  dropping  his  weary  head  down  to  the 
lacquered  bowl,  and  dipping  his  thin,  hanging  mustache 
in  the  brown  water,  drank  feebly  and  eagerly. 

His  tangled  beard  was  unclean  ;  his  sunken,  clouded 
eyes  were  with  difficulty  raised  to  the  young  man's  face. 
When  he  had  finished  drinking,  he  tried  to  raise  his 
hand  to  wipe  his  wet  lips,  but  his  strength  failed  him, 
and  he  wiped  them  on  the  sleeve  of  his  overcoat. 
Silently,  and  breathing  with  difficulty  through  his  nose, 
he  looked  straight  into  the  young  man's  eyes,  and  tried 
to  collect  his  strength. 

"  Maybe  you  have  promised  them  to  some  one  else?  " 
said  the  young  driver.  u  If  that's  so,  all  right.  The 
worst  of  it  is,  it  is  wet  outside,  and  I  have  to  go  out 
to  nvy  work,  and  so  I  said  to  myself,  '  I  reckon  I'll 
ask  Fy£dka  for  his  boots  ;  I  reckon  he  won't  be  need- 
ing them.'  But  maybe  you  will  need  them,  —  just 
say".  .  . 

Something  began  to  bubble  up  and  rumble  in  the 
sick  man's  chest ;  he  bent  over,  and  began  to  strangle, 
with  a  cough  that  rattled  in  his  throat. 

"  Now  I  should  like  to  know  where  he  would  need 
them?"  unexpectedly  snapped  out  the  cook,  angrily 
addressing  the  whole  hovel.  "This  is  the  second 
month  that  he  has  not  crept  down  from  the  oven.  Just 
see  how  he  is  all  broken  up  !  and  you  can  hear  how  it 
must  hurt  him  inside.  Where  would  he  need  boots? 
They  would  not  think  of  burying  him  in  new  ones  ! 
And  it  was  time  long  ago,  God  pardon  me  the  sin 
of  saying  so.     Just  see  how  he  chokes  !     He  ought  to 


296  THREE   DEATHS. 

be  taken  from  this  hovel  to  another,  or  somewhere. 
They  say  there's  hospitals  in  the  city  ;  but  what's  you 
going  to  do?  he  take9  up  the  whole  room,  and  that's 
too  much.  There  isn't  any  room  at  all.  And  yet  you 
are  expected  to  keep  neat." 

"  Hey !  Sery6ha,  come  along,  take  your  place,  the 
people  are  waiting,"  cried  the  head  man  of  the  station, 
coming  to  the  door. 

Seryoha  started  to  go  without  waiting  for  his  reply, 
but  the  sick  man  during  his  cough  intimated  by  his 
eyes  that  he  was  going  to  speak. 

"  You  can  take  the  boots,  Seryoha,"  said  he,  con- 
quering the  cough  and  getting  his  breath  a  little. 
44  Only,  do  you  hear,  buy  me  a  stone  when  I  am  dead," 
he  added  hoarsely. 

44  Thank  you,  uncle ;  then  I  will  take  them,  and  as 
for  the  stone,  — k%-6tl  —  I  will  buy  you  one." 

44  There,  children,  you  are  witnesses,"  the  sick  man 
was  able  to  articulate,  and  then  once  more  he  bent  over 
and  began  to  choke. 

44  All  right,  we  have  heard,"  said  one  of  the  drivers. 
"  But  run,  Seryoha,  or  else  the  starosta  will  be  after  3-ou 
again.     You  know  Lady  Shirkinskaya  is  sick." 

Seryoha  quickly  pulled  off  his  ragged,  unwieldy 
boots,  and  flung  them  under  the  bench.  Uncle  Feodor's 
fitted  his  feet  exactly,  and  the  young  driver  could  not 
keep  his  eyes  off  them  as  he  went  to  the  carriage. 

u  Ek!  what  splendid  boots  !  Here's  some  grease," 
called  another  driver  with  the  grease-pot  in  his  hand, 
as  Seryoha  mounted  to  his  box  and  gathered  up  the 
reins.     "  Get  them  for  nothing?  " 

44  So  you're  jealous,  are  3rou?"  cried  Ser}r6ha,  lift- 
ing up  and  tucking  around  his  legs  the  tails  of  his 
overcoat.     "Off  with  you,  my  darlings,"  he  cried  to 


THREE   DEATHS.  297 

the  horses,  cracking  his  knout ;  and  the  coach  and 
barouche  with  their  occupants,  trunks,  and  other  be- 
longings, were  hidden  in  the  thick  autumnal  mist,  and 
rapidly  whirled  away  over  the  wet  road. 

The  sick  driver  remained  on  the  oven  in  the  stifling 
hovel,  and,  not  being  able  to  throw  off  the  phlegm,  by 
a  supreme  effort  turned  over  on  the  other  side,  and 
stopped  coughing. 

Till  evening  there  was  a  continual  coming  and  going, 
and  eating  of  meals  in  the  hovel,  and  the  sick  man  was 
not  noticed.  Before  night  came  on,  the  cook  climbed 
upon  the  oven,  and  pulled  off  the  sheepskin  from  his 
legs. 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  me,  Nastasya,"  murmured 
the  sick  man.     "  I  shall  soon  leave  you  your  room." 

"  All  right,  all  right,  it's  of  no  consequence.  But 
what  is  the  matter  with  you,  uncle?     Tell  me." 

"  All  my  innards  are  gnawed  out.  God  knows  what 
it  is!" 

"  And  I  don't  doubt  your  gullet  hurts  you  when  you 
cough  so?" 

"  It  hurts  me  all  over.  My  death  is  at  hand,  that's 
what  *t  is.     Okh!  Okh!  Okh!  "  groaned  the  sick  man. 

"  Now  cover  up  your  legs  this  way,"  said  Nastasya, 
comfortably  arranging  the  overcoat  so  that  it  would 
cover  him,  and  then  getting  down  from  the  oven. 

During  the  night  the  hovel  was  faintly  lighted  by  a 
single  taper.  Nastasya  and  a  dozen  drivers  were 
sleeping,  snoring  loudly,  on  the  floor  and  the  benches. 
Only  the  sick  man  feebly  choked  and  coughed,  and 
tossed  on  the  oven. 

In  the  morning  no  sound  was  heard  from  him. 

M  I  saw  something  wonderful  in  my  sleep,"  said  the 
cook,  as  she  stretched  herself  in  the  early  twilight  the 


►  298  THREE  DEATHS. 

next  morning.  "  I  seemed  to  see  Uncle  Khve6dor  get 
down  from  the  oven,  and  go  out  to  cut  wood.  4  Look 
here,'  says  he,  4  I'm  going  to  help  you,  N&sya  ; '  and  I 
says  to  him,  4  How  can  you  split  wood?'  but  he  seizes 
the  hatchet,  and  begins  to  cut  so  fast,  so  fast  that 
nothing  but  chips  fly.  4  Why,'  says  I,  4  ain't  you  been 
sick?'  —  4No,'  says  he,  'I  am  well,'  and  he  kind  of 
lifted  up  the  axe,  and  I  was  scared ;  and  I  screamed 
and  woke  up.  He  can't  be  dead,  can  he?  —  Uncle 
Khve6dor  !  hey,  uncle  !  " 

Feodor  did  not  move. 

44  Now  he  can't  be  dead,  can  he?  Go  and  see," 
said  one  of  the  drivers  who  had  just  waked  up.  The 
emaciated  hand,  covered  with  reddish  hair,  that  hung 
down  from  the  oven,  was  cold  and  pale. 

44  Go  tell  the  superintendent;  it  seems  he  is  dead," 
said  the  driver. 

Feodor  had  no  relatives.  He  was  a  stranger.  On 
the  next  day  they  buried  him  in  the  new  burying- 
ground  behind  the  grove  ;  and  Nast&sya  for  many  days 
had  to  tell  everybody  of  the  dream  which  she  had  seen, 
and  how  she  had  been  the  first  to  discover  that  Uncle 
Feodor  was  dead. 


THREE  DEATHS.  299 


III. 

Spring  had  come. 

Along  the  wet  streets  of  the  city  swift  streamlets  ran 
purling  between  bits  of  ice ;  bright  were  the  colors  of 
people's  dresses  and  the  tones  of  their  voices,  as  they 
hurried  along.  In  the  walled  gardens,  the  buds  on  the 
trees  were  bourgeoning,  and  the  fresh  breeze  swayed 
their  branches  with  a  soft  gentle  murmur.  Everywhere 
transparent  drops  were  forming  and  falling.  .  .  . 

The  sparrows  chattered  incoherently,  and  fluttered 
about  on  their  little  wings.  On  the  sunny  side,  on  the 
walls,  houses,  and  trees,  all  was  full  of  life  and  bril- 
liancy. The  sky,  and  the  earth,  and  the  heart  of  man 
overflowed  with  youth  and  J03'. 

In  front  of  a  great  seignorial  mansion,  in  one  of  the 
principal  streets,  fresh  straw  was  laid ;  in  the  house 
lay  that  same  invalid  whom  we  saw  hastening  abroad. 

Near  the  closed  doors  of  the  house  stood  the  sick 
lady's  husband,  and  a  lady  well  along  in  years.  On  a 
sofa  sat  the  confessor,  with  cast-down  eyes,  holding 
something  wrapped  up  under  his  stole.1  In  one  corner, 
in  a  Voltaire  easy-chair,  reclined  an  old  lady,  the  sick 
woman's  mother,  weeping  violently. 

Near  her  the  maid  stood  holding  a  clean  handker- 
chief, ready  for  the  old  lady's  use  when  she  should 
ask  for  it.  Another  maid  was  rubbing  the  old  lady's 
temples,  and  blowing  on  her  gray  head  underneath  her 
cap. 

1  Called  epitraehilion  in  the  Greek  Church. 


800  THREE   DEATIIS. 

"  Well,  Christ  be  with  you,  my  dear,"  said  the  hus- 
band to  the  elderly  lady  who  was  standing  with  him 
near  the  door :  "  she  lias  such  confidence  in  you  ;  you 
know  how  to  talk  with  her ;  go  and  speak  with  her  a 
little  while,  my  darling,  please  go!  " 

He  was  about  to  open  the  door  for  her;  but  his 
cousin  held  him  back,  putting  her  handkerchief  several 
times  to  her  eyes,  and  shaking  her  head. 

"  There,  now  she  will  not  see  that  I  have  been  weep- 
ing," said  she,  and,  opening  the  door  herself,  went  to 
the  invalid. 

The  husband  was  in  the  greatest  excitement,  and 
seemed  quite  beside  himself.  He  started  to  go  over  to 
the  old  mother,  but  after  taking  a  few  steps  he  turned 
around,  walked  the  length  of  the  room,  and  approached 
the  priest. 

The  priest  looked  at  him,  raised  his  brows  toward 
heaven,  and  sighed.  The  thick  gray  beard  also  was 
lifted  and  fell  again. 

"  My  God  !  my  God  !  "  said  the  husband. 

"What  can  you  do?"  exclaimed  the  confessor, 
sighing  and  again  lifting  up  his  brows  and  beard,  and 
letting  them  drop. 

"And  the  old  mother  there!"  exclaimed  the  hus- 
band, almost  in  despair.  "  She  will  not  be  able  to 
endure  it.  You  see,  she  loved  her  so,  she  loved  her  so, 
that  she  ...  I  don't  know.  You  might  try,  holy 
father,1  to  calm  her  a  little,  and  persuade  her  to  go 
away." 

The  confessor  arose  and  went  over  to  the  old  lady. 

"  It  is  true,  no  one  can  appreciate  a  mother's  heart," 
said  he,  "  but  God  is  compassionate." 

The  old  lady's  face  was  suddenly  convulsed,  and  a 
hysterical  sob  shook  her  frame. 

1  bdtiushka. 


THREE  DEATHS.  301 

"God  is  compassionate,"  repeated  the  priest,  when 
she  had  grown  a  little  calmer.  "  I  will  tell  you,  in  my 
parish  there  was  a  sick  man,  and  much  worse  than 
Marya  Dmitrievna,  and  he,  though  he  was  only  a  shop- 
keeper,1 was  cured  in  a  very  short  time,  by  means  of 
herbs.  And  this  very  same  shopkeeper  is  now  in 
Moscow.  I  have  told  Vasili  Dmitrievitch  about  him ; 
it  might  be  tried,  you  know.  At  all  events,  it  would 
satisfy  the  invalid.  With  God,  all  things  are  pos- 
sible." 

"  No,  she  won't  get  well,"  persisted  the  old  lady. 
"  Why  should  God  have  taken  her,  and  not  me?  " 

And  again  the  hysterical  sobbing  overcame  her  so 
violently  that  she  fainted  away. 

The  invalid's  husband  hid  his  face  in  his  hands,  and 
rushed  from  the  room. 

In  the  corridor  the  first  person  whom  he  met  was  a 
six-year-old  boy,  who  was  chasing  his  little  sister  with 
all  his  might  and  main. 

"  Do  you  bid  me  take  the  children  to  their  mamma?  " 
inquired  the  nurse. 

"  No,  she  is  not  able  to  see  them.  The}7  distract 
her." 

The  lad  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  after  looking 
eagerly  into  his  father's  face,  he  cut  a  dido  with  his 
leg,  and  with  merry  shouts  ran  on.  "I'm  playing 
she's  a  horse,  papasha,"  cried  the  little  fellow,  pointing 
to  his  sister. 

Meantime,  in  the  next  room,  the  cousin  had  taken 
her  seat  near  the  sick  woman,  and  was  skilfully  bring- 
ing the  conversation  by  degrees  round  so  as  to  prepare 
her  for  the  thought  of  death.  The  doctor  stood  by  the 
window,  mixing  some  draught. 

1  meshchdnin. 


302  THREE  DEATHS. 

The  invalid  in  a  white  dressing-gown,  all  surrounded 
by  cushions,  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  and  gazed  silently 
at  her  cousin. 

"  Ah,  my  dear!"  she  exclaimed,  unexpectedly  in- 
terrupting her,  "don't  try  to  prepare  me;  don't  treat 
me  like  a  little  child !  I  am  a  Christian  woman.  I 
know  all  about  it.  I  know  that  I  have  not  long  to  live  ; 
I  know  that  if  my  husband  had  heeded  me  sooner,  I 
should  have  been  in  Italy,  and  possibly,  yes  probably, 
should  have  been  well  by  this  time.  They  all  told  him 
so.  But  what  is  to  be  done?  it's  as  God  saw  fit.  We 
all  of  us  have  sinned,  I  know  that ;  but  I  hope  in  the 
mercy  of  God,  that  all  will  be  pardoned,  ought  to  be 
pardoned.  I  am  trying  to  sound  my  own  heart.  I 
also  have  committed  many  sins,  my  love.  But  how 
much  I  have  suffered  in  atonement !  I  have  tried  to 
bear  my  sufferings  patiently  "  .  .  . 

44  Then  shall  I  have  the  confessor  come  in,  my  love? 
It  will  be  all  the  easier  for  you,  after  you  have  been 
absolved,"  said  the  cousin. 

The  sick  woman  dropped  her  head  in  token  of  assent. 
"O  God  !  pardon  me  a  sinner,"  she  whispered. 

The  cousin  went  out,  and  beckoned  to  the  confessor. 
44  She  is  an  angel,"  she  said  to  the  husband,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes.  The  husband  wept.  The  priest  went  into 
the  sick-room  ;  the  old  lady  still  remained  unconscious, 
and  in  the  room  beyond  all  was  perfectly  quiet.  At 
the  end  of  five  minutes  the  confessor  came  out,  and, 
taking  off  his  stole,  arranged  his  hair. 

"Thanks  be  to  the  Lord,  she  is  calmer  now,"  said 
he.     "  She  wishes  to  see  you." 

The  cousin  and  the  husband  went  to  the  sick-room. 
The  invalid,  gently  weeping,  was  gazing  at  the  images. 

44 1  congratulate  you,  my  love,"  said  the  husband. 


THREE  DEATHS.  303 

"  Thank  you.  How  well  I  feel  now  !  what  ineffable 
joy  I  experience!  "  said  the  sick  woman,  and  a  faint 
smile  played  over  her  thin  lips.  "  How  merciful  God 
is!  Is  it  not  so?  He  is  merciful  and  omnipotent!  " 
And  again  with  an  eager  prayer  she  turned  her  tear- 
ful eyes  towards  the  holy  images. 

Then  suddenly  something  seemed  to  occur  to  her 
mind.     She  beckoned  to  her  husband. 

"You  are  never  willing  to  do  what  I  desire,"  said 
she  in  a  weak  and  querulous  voice. 

The  husband,  stretching  his  neck,  listened  to  her 
submissively. 

"What  is  it,  my  love?" 

"  How  many  times  I  have  told  you  that  these  doc- 
tors don't  know  any  thing !  There  are  uneducated 
women  doctors :  they  make  cures.  That's  what  the 
good  father  said.  ...  A  shopkeeper  .  .  .  send  for 
him"  .   .  . 

"  For  whom,  my  love?  " 

"Good  heavens!  you  can  never  understand  me." 
And  the  dying  woman  frowned,  and  closed  her  eyes. 

The  doctor  came  to  her,  and  took  her  hand.  Her 
pulse  was  evidently  growing  feebler  and  feebler.  He 
made  a  sign  to  the  husband.  The  sick  woman  re- 
marked this  gesture,  and  looked  around  in  fright.  The 
cousin  turned  away  to  hide  her  tears. 

"  Don't  weep,  don't  torment  yourselves  on  my  ac- 
count," said  the  invalid.  "  That  takes  away  from  me 
my  last  comfort." 

u  You  are  an  angel !  "  exclaimed  the  cousin,  kissing 
her  hand. 

"  No,  kiss  me  here.  They  only  kiss  the  hands  of 
those  who  are  dead.     My  God  !  my  God  ! ' ' 

That  same  evening  the  sick  woman  was  a  corpse, 


304  thr  /■:/■:  deaths. 

and  the  corpse  in  the  coffin  lay  in  the  parlor  of  the 
great  mansion.  In  the  immense  room,  the  doors  of 
which  were  closed,  sat  the  clerk,1  and  with  a  monoto- 
nous voice  read  the  Psalms  of  David  through  his  nose. 

The  bright  glare  from  the  wax  candles  in  the  lofty 
silver  candelabra  fell  on  the  white  brow  of  the  dead, 
on  the  heavy  waxen  hands,  on  the  stiff  folds  of  the 
cerement  which  brought  out  into  awful  relief  the  knees 
and  the  feet. 

The  clerk,  not  varying  his  tones,  continued  to  read 
on  steadily,  and  in  the  silence  of  the  chamber  of  death 
his  words  rang  out  and  died  away.  Occasionally  from 
distant  rooms  came  the  voice  of  children  and  their 
romping. 

"Thou  hidest  thy  face,  they  are  troubled;  thou  takest 
away  their  breath,  they  die  and  return  to  their  dust. 

"  Tliou  sendest  forth  thy  Spirit,  they  are  created; 
and  thou  renewest  the  face  of  the  earth. 

"The  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  endure  forever:  the 
Lord  shall  rejoice  in  his  works.** 

The  face  of  the  dead  was  stern  and  majestic.  But 
there  was  no  motion  either  on  the  pure  cold  brow,  or 
the  firmly  closed  lips.  She  was  all  attention.  But  did 
she  perhaps  now  understand  these  grand  words? 

1  diachdk. 


THREE   DEATHS.  305 


IV. 


At  the  end  of  a  month,  over  the  grave  of  the  dead  a 
stone  chapel  was  erected.  Over  the  driver's  there  was 
as  yet  no  stone,  and  only  the  fresh  green  grass  sprout- 
ed over  the  mound  that  served  as  the  sole  record  of 
the  past  existence  of  a  man. 

"It  will  be  a  sin  and  a  shame,  Sery6ha,"  said  the 
cook  at  the  station-house  one  day,  "  if  you  don't  buy 
a  gravestone  for  Khveodor.  You  kept  saying,  'It's 
winter,  winter,'  but  now  why  don't  you  keep  your 
word  ?  I  heard  it  all.  He  has  already  come  back  once 
to  ask  why  you  don't  do  it ;  if  you  don't  buy  him  one, 
he  will  come  again,  he  will  choke  you." 

"Well,  now,  have  I  denied  it?"  urged  Seiyoha. 
"  I  am  going  to  buy  him  a  stone,  as  I  said  I  would. 
I  can  get  one  for  a  ruble  and  a  half.  I  have  not  for- 
gotten about  it ;  I'll  have  to  get  it.  As  soon  as  I 
happen  to  be  in  town,  then  I'll  buy  him  one." 

"  You  ought  at  least  to  put  up  a  cross,  that's  what 
you  ought  to  do,"  said  an  old  driver.  "  It  isn't  right 
at  all.     You're  wearing  those  boots  now." 

"Yes.  But  where  could  I  get  him  a  cross?  You 
wouldn't  want  to  make  one  out  of  an  old  piece  of 
stick,  would  you?  " 

"  What  is  that  37ou  say?  Make  one  out  of  an  old 
piece  of  stick?  No  ;  take  your  axe,  go  out  to  the  wood 
a  little  earlier  than  usual,  and  you  can  hew  him  out 
one.     Take  a  little  ash-tree,  and  you  can  make  one. 


806  THREE   DEATHS. 

You  can  have  a  covered  cross.  If  you  go  then,  you 
won't  have  to  give  the  watchman  a  little  drink  of  vodka. 
One  doesn't  want  to  give  vodka  for  every  trifle.  Now, 
yesterday  I  broke  my  axletrec,  and  I  go  and  hew  out 
a  new  one  of  green  wood.     No  one  said  a  word." 

Early  the  next  morning,  ahnost  before  dawn,  Ser- 
3'6ha  took  his  axe,  and  went  to  the  wood. 

Over  all  things  hung  a  cold,  dead  veil  of  falling 
mist,  as  yet  untouched  by  the  rays  of  the  sun. 

The  east  gradually  grew  brighter,  reflecting  its  pale 
'light  over  the  vault  of  heaven  still  covered  by  light 
clouds.  Not  a  single  grass-blade  below,  not  a  single 
leaf  on  the  topmost  branches  of  the  tree-top,  waved. 
Only  from  time  to  time  could  be  heard  the  sounds  of 
fluttering  wings  in  the  thicket,  or  a  rustling  on  the 
ground  broke  in  upon  the  silence  of  the  forest. 

Suddenly  a  strange  sound,  foreign  to  this  nature, 
resounded  and  died  away  at  the  edge  of  the  forest. 
Again  the  noise  sounded,  and  was  monotonousl}'  re- 
peated again  and  again,  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the 
ancient,  immovable  trees.  A  tree-top  began  to  shake 
in  an  extraordinary  manner;  the  juicy  leaves  whis- 
pered something ;  and  the  warbler,  sitting  on  one  of 
the  branches,  flew  off  a  couple  of  times  with  a  shrill 
cry,  and,  wagging  its  tail,  finally  perched  on  another 
tree. 

The  axe  rang  more  and  more  frequently ;  the  white 
chips,  full  of  sap,  were  scattered  upon  the  dewy  grass, 
and  a  slight  cracking  was  heard  beneath  the  blows. 

The  tree  trembled  with  all  its  body,  leaned  over,  and 
quickly  straightened  itself  with  a  fearful  shudder  on 
its  base. 

For  an  instant  all  was  still,  then  once  more  the 
tree  bent  over ;  a  crash  was  heard  in  its  trunk ;  and 


THREE   DEATHS.  307 

tearing  the  thicket,  and  dragging  down  the  branches, 
it  plunged  toward  the  damp  earth. 

The  noise  of  the  axe  and  of  footsteps  ceased. 

The  warbler  uttered  a  cry,  and  flew  higher.  The 
branch  which  she  grazed  with  her  wings  shook  for  an 
instant,  and  then  came  to  rest  like  all  the  others  with 
their  foliage. 

The  trees,  more  303'ously  than  ever,  extended  their 
branches  over  the  new  space  that  had  been  made  in 
their  midst. 

The  first  sunbeams,  breaking  through  the  cloud, 
gleamed  in  the  sky,  and  shone  along  the  earth  and 
heavens. 

The  mist,  in  billows,  began  to  float  along  the  hol- 
lows ;  the  dew,  gleaming,  played  on  the  green  foliage  ; 
translucent  white  clouds  hurried  along  their  azure  path. 
The  birds  hopped  about  in  the  thicket,  and,  as 
though  beside  themselves,  voiced  their  happiness ;  the 
juicy  leaves  joyfully  and  contentedly  whispered  on  the 
tree-tops ;  and  the  branches  of  the  living  trees  slowly 
and  majestically  waved  over  the  dead  and  fallen  tree. 


A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 


A  Russian  of  rank  was  serving  as  an  officer  in  the 
army  of  the  Caucasus.     His  name  was  Zhilin. 

There  came  to  him  one  day  a  letter  from  his  home. 
His  aged  mother  wrote  him  :  u  I  am  now  getting  along 
in  years,  and  before  I  die  I  should  like  to  see  my  be- 
loved son.  Come  and  bid  me  farewell,  lay  me  in  the 
ground,  and  then  with  my  blessing  return  again  to  your 
service.  And  I  have  been  finding  a  bride  for  you,  and 
she  is  intelligent  and  handsome  and  has  property.  If 
you  like,  you  can  marry  and  settle  down  together." 

Zhilin  cogitated,  "It  is  very  true :  the  old  lady  has 
been  growing  feeble ;  maybe  I  shall  not  have  a  chance 
to  see  her  again.  Let  us  go,  and  if  the  bride  is  pretty 
—  then  I  might  marry." 

He  went  to  his  colonel,  got  his  leave  of  absence,  took 
his  farewell  of  his  comrades,  gave  the  soldiers  of  his 
command  nine  gallons *  of  vodka  as  a  farewell  treat,  and 
made  his  arrangements  to  depart. 

There  was  war  at  that  time  in  the  Caucasus.  The 
roads  were  not  open  for  travel  either  by  day  or  night. 
If  any  of  the  Russians  rode  or  walked  outside  of  the 
fortress,  the  Tatars  were  likely  either  to  kill  him  or 

1  Four  vedros,  equivalent  exactly  to  8.80  gallons. 
308 


A   PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  309 

carry  him  off  to  the  mountains.  And  it  was  arranged 
that  twice  a  week  an  escort  of  soldiers  should  go  from 
fortress  to  fortress.  In  front  and  behind  marched  the 
soldiers,  and  the  travellers  rode  in  the  middle. 

It  was  now  summer-time.  At  sunrise  the  baggage- 
train  was  made  up  behind  the  fortification  ;  the  guard 
of  soldiery  marched  ahead,  and  the  procession  moved 
along  the  road.  .    . 

Zhilin  was  on  horseback,  and  his  effects  were  on  a 
cart  that  formed  part  of  the  train. 

They  had  twenty-five  versts1  to  travel.  The  train 
marched  slowly  ;  sometimes  the  soldiers  halted  ;  some- 
times a  wagon-wheel  came  off,  or  a  horse  balked,  and 
all  had  to  stop  and  wait. 

The  sun  was  alreadjT  past  the  zenith,  but  the  train 
had  only  gone  half  way,  so  great  were  the  dust  and 
heat.  The  sun  was  baking  hot,  and  nowhere  was  there 
shelter.  A  bald  steppe  ;  not  a  tree  or  a  shrub  on  the 
road. 

Zhilin  rode  on  ahead,  occasionally  stopping  and  wait- 
ing till  the  train  caught  up  with  him.  He  would  listen, 
and  hear  the  signal  on  the  horn  to  halt  again.  And 
Zhilin  thought,  kl  Would  I  better  go  on  alone  without 
the  soldiers?  I  have  a  good  horse  under  me  ;  if  I  fall 
in  with  the  Tatars,  I  can  escape.     Or  shall  I  wait?  " 

He  kept  stopping  and  pondering.  And  just  then 
another  officer,  also  on  horseback,  rode  up  to  him ;  his 
name  was  Kostuilin,  and  he  had  a  musket. 

He  said,  "  Zhilin,  let  us  ride  on  ahead  together.  I 
am  so  hungry  that  I  cannot  stand  it  any  longer,  and 
the  heat  too,  — you  could  wring  my  shirt  out !"  Kos- 
tuilin was  a  heavy,  stout,  ruddy  man,  and  the  sweat 
was  dripping  from  him. 

1  Sixteen  and  a  half  uiilee. 


310  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

Zhilin  reflected,  and  said,  "  And  your  musket  is 
loaded?" 

"It  is." 

"  All  right,  let  us  go.  Only  one  condition  :  not  to 
separate.*' 

And  they  started  on  up  the  road.  They  rode  along 
the  steppe,  talking  and  looking  on  each  side.  There 
was  a  wide  sweep  of  view.  As  soon  as  the  steppe 
came  to  an  end,  the  road  went  into  a  pass  between  two 
mountains. 

And  Zhilin  said,  "  I  must  ride  up  on  that  mountain, 
and  reconnoitre,  otherwise  you  see  they  might  come 
down  from  the  mountain  and  surprise  us." 

But  Kostuilin  said,  u  What  is  there  to  reconnoitre? 
Let  us  go  ahead." 

Zhilin  did  not  heed  him. 

M  No,"  says  he,  u  you  wait  for  me  here  below.  I'll 
just  glance  around." 

And  he  spurred  his  horse  up  the  mountain  to  the 
left. 

The  horse  that  Zhilin  rode  was  a  hunter ;  he  had 
bought  him  out  of  a  drove  of  colts,  paying  a  hundred 
rubles  for  him,  and  he  had  himself  trained  him.  He 
bore  him  up  the  steep  slope  as  on  wings.  He  had 
hardly  reached  the  summit  when  before  him  less  than 
seven  hundred  feet  distant  mounted  Tatars  were  stand- 
ing, —  thirty  men. 

He  saw  them,  and  started  to  turn  back,  but  the  Tatars 
had  caught  sight  of  him ;  they  set  out  in  pursuit  of 
him,  unstrapping  their  weapons  as  they  gallop.  Zhilin 
dashes  down  the  precipice  with  all  the  speed  of  his 
horse,  and  cries  to  Kostuilin,  "  Fire  your  gun  !  "  and 
to  his  horse  he  says,  though  not  aloud,  "  Little  mother, 
carry  me  safely,  don't  stumble  ;  if  you  trip,  1  am  lost. 


A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS.  311 

If  we  get  back  to  the  gun,  we  won't  fall  into  their 
hands." 

But  Kostuilin,  instead  of  waiting  for  him,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  the  Tatars,  galloped  on  with  all  his  might 
toward  the  fortress.  With  his  whip  he  belabored  his 
horse,  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other ;  all  that 
could  be  seen  through  the  dust,  was  the  horse  switching 
her  tail. 

Zhilin  saw  that  his  case  was  desperate.  The  gun 
was  gone  ;  nothing  was  to  be  done  with  a  sabre  alone. 
He  turned  his  horse  back  toward  the  train ;  he  thought 
he  might  escape  that  way. 

But  in  front  of  him,  he  sees  that  six  are  galloping 
down  the  steep.  His  horse  is  good,  but  theirs  are 
better ;  and  besides,  they  have  got  the  start  of  him. 
He  started  to  wheel  about,  and  was  going  to  dash 
ahead  again,  but  his  horse  had  got  momentum,  and 
could  not  be  held  back  ;  he  flew  straight  down  toward 
them. 

He  §ees  a  red-bearded  Tatar  approaching  him  on  a 
gray  mare.  He  is  gaining  on  him ;  he  gnashes  his 
teeth  ;  he  is  getting  his  gun  ready. 

u  Well,"  thinks  Zhilin,  "  I  know  you  devils  ;  if  you 
should  take  me  prisoner,  you  would  put  me  in  a  hole, 
and  flog  me  with  a  whip.  I  won't  give  myself  up 
alive." 

Now,  Zhilin  was  not  of  great  size,  but  he  was  an 
uhlan.  He  drew  his  sabre,  spurred  his  horse  straight 
at  the  red-bearded  Tatar.  He  says  to  himself,  "  Either 
I  will  crush  him  with  my  horse,  or  I  will  hack  him 
down  with  my  sabre." 

Zhilin,  however,  did  not  reach  the  place  on  horse- 
back ;  suddenly,  behind  him,  gun-shots  were  fired  at 
the  horse.  The  horse  fell  headlong,  and  pinned 
Zhilin's  leg  to  the  ground. 


312  A   PR/SOXKR   IN   THE   CAUCASUS. 

He  tried  to  arise;  but  already  ill-smelling  Tatars 
were  sitting  on  him,  and  pinioning  his  hands  behind 
his  baek. 

He  burst  from  them,  knocking  the  Tatars  over;  but 
three  others  had  dismounted  from  their  horses,  and 
began  to  beat  him  on  the  head  with  their  gun-stocks. 

His  sight  failed  him,  and  he  staggered. 

The  Tatars  seized  him,  took  from  their  saddles  extra 
saddle-girths,  bent  his  arms  behind  his  back,  fastened 
them  with  a  Tatar  knot,  and  lifted  him  up. 

They  took  his  sabre  from  him,  pulled  off  his  boots, 
made  a  thorough  search  of  him,  pulled  out  his  money 
and  his  watch,  tore  his  clothes  all  to  pieces. 

Zhilin  glanced  at  kis  horse.  The  poor  beast  lay  as 
he  had  fallen,  on  his  side,  and  was  kicking,  vainly 
trying  to  rise.  In  his  head  was  a  hole,  and  from  the 
hole  the  black  blood  was  pouring ;  the  dust  for  an 
arshin  around  was  wet  with  it. 

A  Tatar  went  to  the  horse  to  remove  the  saddle. 
He  was  still  kicking,  so  the  man  took  out  his  dagger, 
and  cut  his  throat.  The  throat  gave  a  whistling  sound, 
a  trembling  ran  over  the  body,  and  all  was  over. 

The  Tatars  took  off  the  saddle  and  the  other  trap- 
pings. The  one  with  the  red  beard  mounted  his  horse, 
and  the  others  lifted  Zhilin  behind  him  to  keep  him 
from  falling ;  they  fastened  him  with  the  reins  to  the 
Tatar's  belt,  and  thus  they  carried  him  off  to  the 
mountains. 

Zhilin  sat  behind,  swaying  and  bumping  his  face 
against  the  stinking  Tatar's  back. 

All  that  he  could  see  before  him  was  the  healthy 
Tatar  back,  and  the  sinewy  neck,  and  a  smooth- 
shaven  nape,  showing  blue  beneath  the  cap. 

Zhilin' s    head   ached ;    the    blood    trickled    into  his 


A   PRISONER   IN   TIIE   CAUCASUS.  313 

eyes.  And  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  get  a  more 
comfortable  position  on  the  horse,  or  wipe  away  the 
blood.  His  arms  were  so  tightly  bound  that  his 
collar-bones  ached.  They  rode  long  from  mountain 
to  mountain ;  they  forded  a  river ;  then  they  entered 
a  highway,  and  rode  along  a  valle}'.  Zhilin  tried  to 
follow  the  route  that  they  took  him  ;  but  his  eyes  were 
glued  together  with  blood,  and  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  turn  round. 

It  began  to  grow  dark ;  they  crossed  still  another 
river,  and  began  to  climb  a  rocky  mountain.  There 
was  an  odor  of  smoke.  The  barking  of  dogs  was 
heard. 

They  had  reached  an  aid.1 

The  Tatars  dismounted.  The  Tatar  children  came 
running  up,  and  surrounded  Zhilin,  whistling  and 
exulting.     Finally  they  began  to  fling  stones  at  him. 

The  Tatar  drove  away  the  children,  lifted  Zhilin 
from  the  horse,  and  called  a  servant. 

A  Noga'i,  with  prominent  cheek-bones,  came  at  the 
call.  He  wore  only  a  shirt.  The  shirt  was  torn  ;  his 
whole  breast  was  bare.  The  Tatar  said  something  to 
him.  The  servant  brought  a  foot-stock.  It  consisted 
of  two  oaken  blocks  provided  with  iron  rings,  and  in 
one  of  the  rings  was  a  clamp  with  a  lock.  They  un- 
fastened Zhilin's  arms,  put  on  the  stock,  and  took  him 
to  a  barn,  pushed  him  in,  and  shut  the  door. 

Zhilin  fell  on  the  manure.  As  he  lay  there,  he  felt 
round  in  the  darkness,  and  when  he  had  found  a  place 
that  was  less  foul,  he  stretched  himself  out. 

1  Aul  =  Tatar's  village.  —  Author's  note. 


814  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 


II. 


Ziiilin  scarcely  slept  that  night.  The  nights  were 
short.  He  saw  through  a  crack  that  it  was  growing 
light.  Zhilin  got  up,  widened  the  crack,  and  managed 
to  look  out. 

Through  the  crack  he  could  see  a  road  leading  down 
from  the  mountain  ;  at  the  right,  a  Tatar  saklia  *  with 
two  trees  near  it.  A  black  dog  was  lying  on  the  road  ; 
a  she-goat  with  her  kids  was  walking  by,  all  of  them 
shaking  their  tails. 

He  saw  coming  down  the  mountain  a  young  Tatar 
girl  in  a  variegated  shirt,  ungirdled,  in  pantalettes  and 
boots ;  her  head  was  covered  with  a  kaftan,  and  on  it 
she  bore  a  great  tin  water-jug. 

She  walked  along,  swaying  and  bending  her  back, 
and  holding  by  the  hand  a  little  Tatar  urchin,  with 
shaven  head,  who  wore  a  single  shirt. 

After  the  Tatar  maiden  had  passed  with  her  water- 
jug,  the  red-bearded  Tatar  of  the  evening  before  came 
out,  wearing  a  silk  beshmet,  a  silver  dagger  in  his  belt, 
and  sandals  on  his  bare  feet.  On  his  head  was  a  high 
cap  of  sheep-skin,  dyed  black,  and  with  the  point  hang- 
ing down.  He  came  out,  stretched  himself,  stroked 
his  red  beard.  He  paused,  gave  some  order  to  the 
servant,  and  went  off  somewhere. 

Then  two  children  on  horseback  came  along  on  their 
way  to  the  watering-trough.  The  hind-quarters  of  the 
horses  were  wet. 

I  *  A  mountain -hut  ill  the  Caucasus. 


A    PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  315 

Other  shaven-headed  youngsters,  with  nothing  but 
shirts  on,  and  nothing  on  their  legs,  formed  a  little 
band,  and  came  to  the  barn ;  they  got  a  dry  stick, 
and  stuck  it  through  the  crack. 

Zhilin  growled  "  ukh  "  at  them.  The  children  began 
to  cry,  and  scatter  in  every  direction  as  fast  as  their 
legs  would  cany  them  ;  onl}-  their  bare  knees  glistened. 
But  Zhilin  began  to  be  thirsty  ;  his  throat  was  parched. 
He  said  to  himself,  "  I  wonder  if  they  won't  come  to 
look  after  me  ?  " 

Suddenly  the  barn-doors  are  thrown  open. 

The  red  Tatar  came  in,  and  with  him  another,  of 
slighter  stature  and  of  dark  complexion.  His  eyes 
were  bright  and  black,  his  cheeks  ruddy,  his  little 
beard  well  trimmed,  his  face  jolly  and  always  en- 
livened with  a  grin. 

The  dark  man's  clothing  was  still  richer :  a  silk 
beshmet  of  blue  silk,  embroidered  with  gold  lace.  In 
his  belt,  a  great  silver  dagger;  handsome  morocco 
slippers  embroidered  with  silver,  and  over  the  fine 
slippers  he  wore  a  larger  pair  of  stout  ones.  His  cap 
was  tall,  of  white  lamb's  wool. 

The  red  Tatar  came  in,  muttered  something,  gave 
vent  to  some  abusive  language,  and  then  stood  leaning 
against  the  wall,  fingering  his  dagger,  and  scowling 
under  his  brows  at  Zhilin,  like  a  wolf. 

But  the  dark  Tatar,  nervous  and  active,  and  always 
on  the  go,  as  though  he  were  made  of  springs,  came 
straight  up  to  Zhilin,  squatted  down  on  his  heels, 
showed  his  teeth,  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  began 
to  gabble  something  in  his  own  language,  winked  his 
eyes,  and,  clucking  his  tongue,  kept  saying,  "A  fine 
Kuss,  a  fine  Kuss  !  " l 

i  Urus  in  Tatar. 


316  A  r/USOXER  LV  THE  CAUCASUS. 

Zhilin  did  not  understand  him,  and  said,  "Drink; 
give  me  some  water." 

The  dark  one  grinned. 

11  A  fine  Russ !  "  and  all  the  time  he  kept  babbling. 

Zhilin  signified  by  his  hands  and  lips  that  they  should 
give  him  water. 

The  dark  one  understood,  grinned,  put  his  head  out 
of  the  door,  and  cried,  "  Dina !  " 

A  young  girl  came  running  in, — a  slender,  lean 
creature  of  thirteen,  with  a  face  like  the  dark  man's. 
Evidently  she  was  his  daughter. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  long  blue  shirt  with  wide 
sleeves  and  without  a  belt.  On  the  bottom,  on  the 
breast,  and  on  the  cuffs  it  was  relieved  with  red  trim- 
mings. She  wore  on  her  legs  pantalettes  and  slippers, 
and  over  the  slippers  another  pair  with  high  heels.  Ou 
her  neck  was  a  necklace  wholly  composed  of  half-ruble 
pieces.  Her  head  was  uncovered  ;  she  had  her  hair  in 
a  black  braid,  and  on  the  braid  was  a  ribbon,  and  to 
the  ribbon  were  attached  various  ornaments  and  a 
silver  ruble. 

Her  father  gave  her  some  command.  She  ran  out, 
and  quickly  returned,  bringing  a  little  tin  pitcher. 
After  she  had  handed  him  the  water,  she  also  squatted 
on  her  heels  in  such  a  way  that  her  knees  were  higher 
than  her  shoulders. 

She  sits  that  way,  and  opens  her  eyes,  and  stares  at 
Zhilin  while  he  drinks,  as  though  he  were  some  wild 
beast. 

Zhilin  offered  to  return  the  pitcher  to  her.  She 
darted  away  like  a  wild  goat.  Even  her  father 
laughed. 

He  sent  her  after  something  else.  She  took  the 
pitcher,  ran  out,  and  brought  back  some  unleavened 


A  PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  317 

bread  on  a  small  round  board,  and  again  squatted 
down,  and  stared  without  taking  her  eyes  from  him. 

The  Tatars  went  out,  and  again  bolted  the  door. 

After  a  while  the  Noga'i  also  comes  to  Zhilin,  and 
sa}rs,  tk  A'i-da,  khozydiu,  aX-da!  " 

But  he  does  not  know  Russian  either.  Zhilin,  how- 
ever, perceived  that  he  wished  him  to  go  somewhere. 

Zhilin  hobbled  out  with  his  clog ;  it  was  impossible 
to  walk,  so  he  had  to  drag  one  leg.  The  Noga'i  led  the 
way  for  him. 

He  sees  before  him  a  Tatar  village,  of  half  a  score 
of  houses,  and  the  native  mosque  with  its  minaret. 

In  front  of  one  house  stood  three  horses  saddled. 
Lads  held  them  by  the  bridle.  P'rom  this  house  came 
the  dark  Tatar,  and  waved  his  hand,  signifying  that 
Zhilin  was  to  come  to  him.  He  grinned,  and  kept 
saying  something  in  his  own  tongue,  and  went  into  the 
house. 

Zhilin  followed  him* 

The  room  was  decent ;  the  walls  were  smoothly  plas- 
tered with  clay.  Against  the  front  wall  were  placed 
feather-beds ;  on  the  sides  hung  costly  rugs ;  on  the 
rugs  were  guns,  pistols,  and  sabres,  all  silver-mounted. 

On  one  side  a  little  oven  was  set  in,  on  a  level  with 
the  floor. 

The  floor  was  of  earth,  clean  as  a  threshing-floor, 
and  the  whole  of  the  front  portion  was  covered  with 
felt ;  rugs  were  distributed  over  the  felt,  and  on  the 
rugs  were  down  pillows. 

On  tfie  rugs  were  sitting  some  Tatars  in  slippers 
only,  —  the  dark  Tatar,  the  red-bearded  one,  and 
three  guests.  Behind  their  backs,  down  cushions  were 
placed ;  and  before  them  on  wooden  plates  were  pan- 
cakes of  millet-flour,  and  melted  butter  in  a  cup,  and 


318  A   PJi/SONt'R   IN   THE   CAUCASUS. 

tlu>  Tatar  beer,  called  buza,  in  a  pitcher.  They  ate 
with  their  fingers,  and  all  dipped  into  the  butter. 

The  dark  man  leaped  up,  hade  Zhilin  sit  on  one 
side,  not  on  a  rug  but  on  the  bare  floor ;  going  back 
Again  to  his  rag,  he  handed  his  guests  cakes  and  buza. 

The  servant  showed  Zhilin  his  place ;  he  himself 
took  off  his  shoes,  placed  them  by  the  door  in  a  row 
with  the  slippers  of  the  other  guests,  and  took  his 
seat  on  the  felt  as  near  as  possible  to  his  masters ; 
and  while  they  eat  he  looks  at  them,  and  his  mouth 
waters. 

After  the  Tatars  had  finished  eating,  a  Tatar  woman 
entered,  dressed  in  the  same  sort  of  shirt  as  the  girl 
wore,  and  in  pantalettes ;  her  head  was  covered  with 
a  handkerchief.  She  carried  out  the  butter  and  the 
cakes,  and  brought  a  handsome  finger-bowl,  and  a 
pitcher  with  a  narrow  nose. 

The  Tatars  finished  washing  their  hands,  then  they 
folded  their  arms,  knelt  down,  and  puffed  on  all  sides, 
and  said  their  prayers.  They  talked  in  their  own 
tongue. 

Then  one  of  the  guests,  a  Tatar,  approached  Zhilin, 
and  began  to  speak  to  him  in  Russian.  kt  Kazi  Muha- 
met  made  you  prisoner,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the 
red-bearded  Tatar;  "  and  he  has  given  you  to  Abdul 
Murat,"  indicating  the  dark  one.  "Abdul  Murat  is 
now  your  master."1 

Zhilin  said  nothing. 

Abdul  Murat  began  to  talk,  all  the  time  pointing 
toward  Zhilin,  and  grinned  as  he  talked :  *  soldat 
Urus,  korosho  Urus." 

The  interpreter  went  on  to  say,  "  He  commands 
you  to  write  a  letter  home,  and  have  them  send  money 

1  khozydln. 


A   PRISONER  IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  319 

to  ransom  }Tou.  As  soon  as  money  is  sent,  he  will  set 
you  free." 

Zhilin  pondered  a  little,  and  then  said,  "  Does  he 
wish  a  large  ransom?  " 

The  Tatars  took  counsel  together,  and  then  the  in- 
terpreter said,  — 

u  Three  thousand  silver  rubles." 

"  No,"  replied  Zhilin,  "  I  can't  pay  that." 

Abdul  leaped  up,  began  to  gesticulate  and  talk  to 
Zhilin  ;  he  seemed  all  the  time  to  think  that  Zhilin  un- 
derstood him. 

The  interpreter  translated  his  words.  "He  means," 
says  he,  "  how  much  will  you  give?  " 

Zhilin  after  pondering  a  little  said,  "  Five  hundred 
rubles." 

Then  the  Tatars  all  began  to  talk  at  once.  Abdul 
began  to  scream  at  the  red-bearded  Tatar.  He  grew 
so  excited  as  he  talked,  that  the  spittle  flew  from  his 
mouth. 

But  the  red-bearded  Tatar  only  frowned,  and  clucked 
with  his  tongue. 

When  all  became  silent  again,  the  interpreter  said, 
4*  Five  hundred  rubles  is  not  enough  to  buy  you  of 
your  master.  He  himself  has  paid  two  hundred  for 
you.  Kazi  Muhamet  was  in  debt  to  him.  He  took 
you  for  the  debt.  Three  thousand  rubles  ;  it  is  no  use 
to  send  less.  But  if  you  don't  write,  they  will  put  you 
in  a  hole,  and  flog  you  with  a  whip." 

u  Ekhl  "  thinks  Zhilin,  "  the  more  cowardly  one  is, 
the  worse  it  is  for  him."  He  leaped  to  his  feet,  and 
said,  —    * 

**  Now  you  tell  him,  dog  that  he  is,  that  if  he  thinks 
he  is  going  to  frighten  me,  then  I  will  not  give  him  a 
single  kopek  nor  will  I  write.     1  am  not  afraid  of  you, 


320  A  PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS. 

and  you  will  never  make  me  afraid  of  you,  you  dog !  " 
The  interpreter  translated  this,  and  again  they  all 
began  to  talk  at  once. 

They  gabbled  a  long  time,  then  the  dark  one  got  up 
and  came  to  Zhilin. 

M  Urus,"  says  he,  "jigit,jigit  Urns!" 

The  word  jig  it  among  them  signifies  a  brave  young 
man.  And  he  grinned,  said  something  to  the  inter- 
preter, and  the  interpreter  said,  u  Give  a  thousand 
rubles."  Zhilin  would  not  give  in.  "I  will  not  pay 
more  than  five  hundred.  But  if  you  kill  me,  you  will 
get  nothing  at  all." 

The  Tatars  consulted  together,  sent  out  the  servant, 
and  they  themselves  looked  first  at  the  door,  then  at 
Zhilin. 

The  servant  returned,  followed  by  a  rather  stout 
man  in  bare  feet  and  almost  stripped.  His  feet  also 
were  in  stocks. 

Zhilin  made  an  exclamation :  he  recognized  Kos- 
tuilin. 

And  they  brought  him  in,  and  placed  him  next  his 
comrade ;  the  two  began  to  talk  together,  and  the 
Tatars  looked  on  and  listened  in  silence. 

Zhilin  told  how  it  had  gone  with  him  ;  Kostuilin  told 
how  his  horse  had  stood  stock  still,  and  his  gun  had 
missed  fire,  and  that  this  same  Abdul  had  overtaken 
him  and  captured  him. 

Abdul  listened,  pointed  to  Kostuilin,  and  muttered 
something.  The  interpreter  translated  his  words  to 
mean  that  they  now  both  belonged  to  the  same  master, 
and  that  the  one  who  paid  the  ransom  first  would  be 
freed  first.  "Now,"  says  he  to  Zhilin,  "you  lose 
37our  temper  so  easily,  but  your  comrade  is  calm ;  he 
has  written  a  letter  home  ;  they  will  send  five  thousand 


A  PRISONER   IN    THE   CAUCASUS.  321 

silver  rubles.  And  so  he  will  be  well  fed,  and  he 
won't  be  hurt." 

And  Zhilin  said,  "  Let  nry  comrade  do  as  he  pleases. 
Maybe  he  is  rich.  But  I  am  not  rich ;  I  will  do  as 
1  have  already  told  you.  Kill  me  if  you  wish,  but  it 
would  not  do  you  any  good,  and  I  will  not  pay  you 
more  than  five  hundred  rubles." 

They  were  silent. 

Suddenly  Abdul  leaped  up,  brought  a  little  chest, 
took  out  a  pen,  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  ink,  and  pushed 
them  into  Zhilin's  hands,  then  tapped  him  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  said  by  signs,  "  Write."  He  had  agreed  to 
take  the  five  hundred  rubles. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  Zhilin  to  the  interpreter. 
"Tell  him  that  he  must  feed  us  well,  clothe  us,  and 
give  us  good  decent  foot-wear,  and  let  us  stay  together. 
We  want  to  have  a  good  time.  And  lastly,  that  he 
take  off  these  clogs." 

He  looked  at  his  Tatar  master,  and  smiled.  The 
master  also  smiled,  and  when  he  learned  what  was 
wanted,  said, — 

u  I  will  give  you  the  veiy  best  clothes  :  a  cherkeska l 
and  boots,  fit  for  a  wedding.  And  I  will  feed  you  like 
princes.  And  if  you  want  to  live  together,  why,  you 
can  live  in  the  barn.  But  it  won't  do  to  take  away  the 
clogs  :  you  would  run  away.  Only  at  night  will  I  have 
them  taken  off."  Then  he  jumped  up,  tapped  him  on 
the  shoulder:  "  You  good,  me  good." 

Zhilin  wrote  his  letter,  but  he  put  on  it  the  wrong 
address  so  that  it  might  never  reach  its  destination. 
He  said  to  himself,  "  I  shall  run  away." 

The}7  took  Zhilin  and  Kostuilin  to  the  barn,  strewed 
corn-stalks,  gave  them  water  in  a  pitcher,  and  bread, 

*  A  sort  of  long  Circassian  cloak. 


322  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

two  old  cherkeski,  and  some  worn-out  military  boots. 
It  was  evident  that  they  had  been  stolen  from  some 
dead  soldier.  When  night  came  they  took  off  their 
clogs,  and  locked  them  up  in  the  barn. 


A   PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  323 


III. 


Thus  Zhilin  and  his  comrade  lived  a  whole  month. 
Their  master  was  always  on  the  grin. 

"  You,  Ivan,  good  —  me,  Abdul,  good.'* 

But  he  gave  them  wretched  food ;  unleavened  bread 
made  of  millet-flour,  cooked  in  the  form  of  cakes,  but 
often  not  heated  through. 

Kostuilin  wrote  home  again,  and  was  anxiously 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  money,  and  lost  his  spirits. 
Whole  days  at  a  time,  he  sat  in  the  barn,  and  counted 
the  days  till  his  money  should  arrive,  or  else  he  slept. 

But  Zhilin  had  no  expectation  that  his  letter  would 
reach  its  destination,  and  he  did  not  write  another. 

"Where,"  he  asked  himself,  —  "where  would  my 
mother  get  the  money  for  my  ransom?  And  besides, 
she  lived  for  the  most  part  on  what  I  used  to  send  her. 
If  she  made  out  to  raise  five  hundred  rubles,  she  would 
be  in  want  till  the  end  of  her  days.  If  God  wills  it,  I 
may  escape." 

And  all  the  time  he  kept  his  eyes  open,  and  made 
plans  to  elude  his  captors. 

He  walked  about  the  aul ;  he  amused  himself  by 
whistling ;  or  else  he  sat  down  and  fashioned  things, 
either  modelling  dolls  out  of  clay  or  plaiting  baskets 
of  osiers,  for  Zhilin  was  a  master  at  all  sorts  of  handi- 
work. 

One  time  he  had  made  a  doll  with  nose,  and  hands 
and  feet,  and  dressed  in  a  Tatar  shirt,  and  he  set  the 


324  A  PRISONER  JN  TIIE  CAUCASUS. 

doll  on  the  roof.  The  Tatar  women  were  going  for 
water.  l)ina>  the  master's  daughter,  caught  sight  of 
the  doll.  She  called  the  Tatar  girls.  They  set  down 
their  jugs,  and  looked  and  laughed. 

Zhiliu  took  the  doll,  and  offered  it  to  them.  They 
keep  laughing,  but  don't  dare  to  take  it. 

He  left  the  doll,  went  to  the  barn,  and  watched  what 
would  take  place. 

Diua  ran  up  to  the  doll,  looked  around,  seized  the 
doll,  and  fled. 

The  next  morning  at  dawn  he  sees  Dina  come  out 
on  the  doorstep  with  the  doll.  And  she  has  already 
dressed  it  up  in  red  rags,  and  was  rocking  it  like  a 
little  child,  and  singing  a  lullaby  in  her  own  language. 

An  old  woman  came  out,  gave  her  a  scolding, 
snatched  the  doll  away,  broke  it  in  pieces,  and  sent 
Dina  to  her  work. 

Zhiiin  made  another  doll,  a  still  better  one,  and  gave 
it  to  Dina. 

One  time  Dina  brought  a  little  jug,  put  it  down, 
took  a  seat,  and  looked  at  him.  Then  she  laughed, 
and  pointed  to  the  jug. 

M  What  is  she  so  gay  about?  "  thinks  Zhiiin. 

He  took  the  jug,  and  began  to  drink.  He  supposed 
that  it  was  water,  but  it  was  milk. 

He  drank  up  the  milk. 

"Good,"  says  he.  How  delighted  Dina  was! 
"  Good,  Ivan,  good  !  " 

And  she  jumped  up,  clapped  her  hands,  snatched 
the  jug,  and  ran  away.  And  from  that  time  she 
began  to  bring  him  secretly  fresh  milk  every  day. 

Now,  sometimes  the  Tatars  would  make  cheesecakes 
out  of  goat's  milk,  and  dry  them  on  their  roofs.  Then 
she  used  to  carry  some  of  these  cakes  secretly  to  him. 


A  PRISONER  IN  THE   CAUCASUS.  325 

And  another  lime,  when  her  father  had  killed  a  sheep, 
she  brought  him  a  piece  of  mutton  in  her  sleeve.  She 
threw  it  down,  and  ran  away. 

One  time  there  was  a  tremendous  shower,  and  for  a 
whole  hour  the  rain  poured  as  from  buckets ;  and  all 
the  brooks  grew  roily.  Wherever  there  had  been  a 
ford,  the  depth  of  the  water  increased  to  seven  feet, 
and  bowlders  were  rolled  along  by  it.  Everywhere 
torrents  were  rushing,  the  mountains  were  full  of  the 
roaring. 

Now,  when  the  shower  was  over,  streams  were  pour- 
ing all  through  the  village.  Zhilin  asked  his  master 
for  a  knife,  whittled  out  a  cylinder  and  some  paddles, 
and  made  a  water-wheel,  and  fastened  manikins  at  the 
two  ends. 

The  little  girls  brought  him  some  rags,  and  he 
dressed  up  the  manikins,  one  like  a  man,  the  other 
like  a  woman.  He  fastened  them  on,  and  put  the 
wheel  in  a  brook.  The  wheel  revolved,  and  the  dolls 
danced. 

The  whole  village  collected :  the  little  boys  and  the 
little  girls,  the  women,  and  even  the  Tatars,  came  and 
clucked  with  their  tongues.     "  ^17,  Urns!  a?,  Ivan!" 

Abdul  had  a  Russian  watch,  which  had  been  broken. 
He  took  it,  and  showed  it  to  Zhilin,  and  clucked  with 
his  tongue.     Zhilin  said,  — 

ki  Let  me  have  it,  I  will  fix  it." 

He  took  it,  opened  the  penknife,  took  it  apart. 
Then  he  put  it  together  again,  and  gave  it  back.  The 
watch  ran. 

The  Tatar  was  delighted,  brought  him  his  old  besh- 
met  which  was  all  in  rags,  and  gave  it  to  him.  Noth- 
ing else  to  be  done,  —  he  took  it,  and  used  it  as  a 
covering  at  night. 


326  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

From  that  time,  Zhilin's  fame  went  abroad,  that  he 
was  a  M  master."  Even  from  distaut  villages,  they 
came  to  him.  One  brought  him  a  gun-lock  or  a  pistol 
to  repair,  another  a  watch. 

His  master  furnished  him  with  tools, — a  pair  of 
pincers  and  gimlets  and  a  little  file. 

One  time  a  Tatar  fell  ill;  they  came  to  Zhilin: 
u  Come  cure  him  !  " 

Zhilin  knew  nothing  of  medicine.  He  went,  looked 
at  the  sick  man,  said  to  himself,  "  Perhaps  he  will  get 
well,  anyway."  He  went  into  the  barn,  took  water  and 
sand,  and  shook  them  up  together.  He  whispered 
a  few  words  to  the  water  in  presence  of  the  Tatars, 
and  gave  it  to  the  sick  man  to  drink. 

Fortunately  for  him,  the  Tatar  got  well. 

Zhilin  had  by  this  time  learned  something  of  their 
language.  And  some  of  the  Tatars  became  accus- 
tomed to  him  ;  when  they  wanted  him,  they  called  him 
by  name,  "  Ivan,  Ivan  ;  "  but  others  always  looked  at 
him  as  though  he  was  a  wild  beast. 

The  red-bearded  Tatar  did  not  like  Zhilin  ;  when  he 
saw  him,  he  scowled  and  turned  away,  or  else  insulted 
him. 

There  was  another  old  man  among  them  ;  he  did  not 
live  in  the  aul,  but  came  down  from  the  mountain. 
Zhilin  never  saw  him  except  when  he  came  to  the 
mosque  to  prayer.  He  was  of  small  stature ;  on  his 
cap,  he  wore  a  white  handkerchief  as  an  ornament. 
His  beard  and  mustaches  were  trimmed;  they  were 
white  as  wool,  and  his  face  was  wrinkled  and  brick- 
red.  His  nose  was  hooked  like  a  hawk's,  and  his  eyes 
were  gray  and  cruel,  and  he  had  no  teeth  except  two 
tusks. 

He  used  to  come  in  his  turban,  leaning  on  his  staff, 


A   PR  J  SON  KB   IN   TIIK   CAUCASUS.  327 

and  glare  like  a  wolf ;  whenever  he  saw  Zhilin,  he 
would  snort,  and  turn  his  back. 

One  time  Zhilin  went  to  the  mountain  to  see  where 
the  old  man  lived.  He  descended  a  narrow  path,  and 
sees  a  little  stone-walled  garden.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  wall  are  cherry-trees,  peach-trees,  and  a  little 
hut  with  a  flat  roof. 

He  went  nearer ;  he  sees  bee-hives  made  of  straw, 
and  bees  flying  and  humming  around  them.  And  the 
old  man  is  on  his  knees  before  the  hives,  hammering 
something. 

Zhilin  raised  himself  up,  so  as  to  get  a  better  view, 
and  his  clog  made  a  noise. 

The  old  man  looked  up, — squealed;  he  pulled  his 
pistol  from  his  belt,  and  fired  at  Zhilin,  who  had  barely 
time  to  hide  behind  the  wall. 

The  old  man  came  to  make  his  complaint  to  Zhilin' s 
master.    Abdul  called  him  in,  grinned,  and  asked  him  : 

t%  Why  did  you  go  to  the  old  man's?  " 

u  I  didn't  do  him  any  harm.  I  wanted  to  see  how 
he  lived." 

Abdul  explained  it  to  the  old  man ;  but  he  was 
angry,  hissed,  mumbled  something,  showed  his  tusks, 
and  threatened  Zhilin  with  his  hands. 

Zhilin  did  not  understand  it  all ;  but  he  made  out 
that  the  old  man  wished  Abdul  to  kill  the  two  Rus- 
sians, and  not  have  them  in  the  aul. 

The  old  man  went  off. 

Zhilin  began  to  ask  his  master,  "  Who  is  that  old 
man?  "     And  the  master  replied,  — 

"He  is  a  great  man.  He  used  to  be  our  first  jiglt; 
he  has  killed  many  Russians.  He  used  to  be  rich. 
He  had  three  wives  and  eight  sons.  All  lived  in  one 
village.    The  Russians  came,  destroyed  his  village,  and 


828  A  PRISONER  IN   TI1E  CAUCASUS. 

killed  seven  of  his  sons.  One  son  was  left,  and  sur- 
reudcrcd  to  the  Russians.  The  old  man  went  and  gave 
himself  up  to  the  Russians  also.  He  lived  among  them 
three  months,  found  his  son,  killed  him  with  his  own 
hand,  and  escaped.  Since  that  time  he  has  stopped 
fighting.  He  went  to  Mecca  to  pray  to  God,  and  that's 
why  he  wears  a  turban.  Whoever  has  been  to  Mecca 
is  called  a  hadji,  and  wears  a  chalma.  But  he  does 
not  love  you  Russians.  He  has  bade  me  kill  you,  but 
I  don't  intend  to  kill  you.  I  have  paid  out  money  for 
you,  and  besides,  Ivan,  I  have  come  to  like  you.  And 
so  far  from  wishing  to  kill  you,  I  would  rather  not  let 
you  go  from  me  at  all,  if  I  had  not  given  my  word." 

He  laughed,  and  began  to  repeat  in  Russian, tfc  Tvoyd 
Ivdn,  khordsh,  moyd,  Abdul,  khordsh." 


A  PRISONER  IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  321) 


IV. 


Thus  Zhilia  lived  a  month.  In  the  daytime  he 
walked  about  the  aul  or  did  some  handiwork,  but  when 
night  came,  and  it  grew  quiet  in  the  aul,  he  burrowed 
in  his  barn.  It  was  hard  work  digging  because  of  the 
stones,  and  he  sometimes  had  to  use  his  file  on  them ; 
and  thus  he  dug  a  hole  under  the  wall  big  enough 
to  crawl  through. 

"Only,"  he  thought,  "I  must  know  the  region  a 
little  first,  so  as  to  escape  in  the  right  direction.  And 
the  Tatars  wouldn't  tell  me  any  thing." 

He  waited  till  one  time  when  his  master  was  absent, 
then  he  went  after  dinner  behind  the  aul  to  a  moun- 
tain.    His  idea  was  to  reconnoitre  the  country. 

But  when  Abdul  returned  he  commanded  a  small  boy 
to  follow  Zhilin,  and  not  take  his  eyes  from  him.  The 
little  fellow  tagged  after  Zhilin,  and  kept  crying,  — 

"  Don't  go  there.  Father  won't  allow  it.  I  will 
call  the  men  if  3'ou  go  !  " 

Zhilin  began  to  reason  with  him.  "  I  am  not  going 
far,"  says  he,  —  "only  to  that  hill:  I  must  get  some 
herbs.  Come  with  me ;  I  can't  run  away  with  this 
clog.  To-morrow  I  will  make  you  a  bow  and 
arrows." 

He  persuaded  the  lad,  they  went  together.  To  look 
at,  the  mountain  is  not  far,  but  it  was  hard  work  with 
the  clog ;  he  went  a  little  distance  at  a  time,  pulling 
himself  up  by  main  strength. 


330  A    PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS. 

Zhilin  sat  clown  on  the  summit,  and  began  to  survey 
the  ground. 

To  the  south  behind  the  barn  lay  a  valley  through 
which  a  herd  was  grazing,  and  another  aul  was  in  sight 
at  the  foot  of  it.  Back  of  the  village  was  another  hill 
still  steeper,  and  back  of  that  still  another.  Between 
the  mountains  lay  a  further  stretch  of  forest,  and  then 
still  other  mountains  constantly  rising  higher  and 
higher.  And  higher  than  all,  stood  snow-capped  peaks 
white  as  sugar,  and  one  snowy  peak  rose  like  a  dome 
above  them  all. 

To  the  east  and  west  also  were  mountains.  In 
every  direction  the  smoke  of  auls  was  to  be  seen  in  the 
ravines. 

"Well,"  he  said  to  himself,  "this  is  all  their 
country." 

He  began  to  look  in  the  direction  of  the  Russian 
possessions.  At  his  very  feet  was  a  little  river,  his 
village  surrounded  by  gardens.  By  the  river  some 
women,  no  larger  in  appearance  than  little  dolls,  were 
standing  and  washing.  Behind  the  aul  was  a  lower 
mountain,  and  beyond  it  two  other  mountains  covered 
with  forests.  And  between  the  two  mountains  a  plain 
stretched  far,  far  away  in  the  blue  distance  ;  and  on  the 
plain  lay  what  seemed  like  smoke. 

Zhiliu  tried  to  remember  in  what  direction,  when  he 
lived  at  home  in  the  foutress,  the  sun  used  to  rise,  and 
where  it  set.  He  looked.  "  Just  about  there,"  says 
he,  u  in  that  valley,  our  fortress  ought  to  be.  There, 
between  those  two  mountains,  I  must  make  my 
escape." 

The  little  sun  began  to  slope  toward  the  west.  The 
snowy  mountains  changed  from  white  to  purple ;  the 
wooded    mountains    grew   dark ;    a  mist  arose   from 


A   PRISONER  IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  331 

the  valley  ;  and  the  valley  itself,  where  the  Russian  for- 
tress must  be,  glowed  in  the  sunset  as  though  it  were 
on  fire.  Zhilin  strained  his  gaze.  Something  seemed 
to  hang  waving  in  the  air,  like  smoke  arising  from 
chimneys. 

And  so  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  must  be  from  the 
fortress  itself,  —  the  Russian  fortress. 

It  was  already  growing  late.  The  voice  of  the  mulla 
calling  to  prayer  was  heard.  The  herds  began  to  re- 
turn ;  the  kine  were  lowing.  The  little  lad  kept 
repeating,  "Let  us  go!"  but  Zhilin  could  not  tear 
himself  away. 

They  returned  home. 

"Well,"  thinks  Zhilin,  "  now  I  know  the  place; 
I  must  make  my  escape." 

He  proposed  to  make  his  escape  that  very  night. 
The  nights  were  dark  ;  it  was  the  wane  of  the  moon. 

Unfortunately  the  Tatars  returned  in  the  evening. 
Usually  they  came  in  driving  the  cattle  with  them,  and 
came  in  hilarious.  But  this  time  they  had  no  cattle ; 
but  they  brought  a  Tatar,  dead  on  his  saddle.  It  was 
Kazi  MuhameVs  brother.  They  rode  in  solemnly,  and 
collected  for  the  burial. 

Zhilin  also  went  out  to  look. 

They  did  not  put  the  dead  body  in  a  coffin,  but 
wrapped  it  in  linen,  and  placed  it  under  a  plane-tree 
in  the  village,  where  it  lay  on  the  sward. 

The  mulla  came ;  the  old  men  gathered  together, 
their  caps  bound  around  with  handkerchiefs.  They 
took  off  their  shoes,  and  sat  in  rows  on  their  heels 
before  the  dead. 

In  front  was  the  mulla,  behind  him  three  old  men 
in  turbans,  and  behind  them  the  rest  of  the  Tatars. 
The   mulla   lifted   the   dead   man's    head,    and   said, 


332  A  PRISONER  IN  ME  CAUCASUS. 

"  Allah!"  (That  means  God.)  He  said  this  one 
word.  and  let  the  head  fall  back.  All  were  silent; 
they  sat  motionless. 

Again  the  nnilla  lifted  the  head,  saying,  " Allah!" 
and  all  repeated  it  after  him,  — 

"  Allah!" 

Then  silence  again. 

The  dead  man  lay  on  the  sward ;  he  was  motionless, 
and  they  sat  as  though  they  were  dead.  Not  one 
made  a  motion.  The  only  sound  was  the  rustling  of 
the  foliage  of  the  plane-tree,  stirred  by  the  breeze. 

Then  the  mulla  offered  a  prayer.  All  got  to  their 
feet ;  they  took  the  dead  body  in  their  arms,  and  car- 
ried it  away. 

They  brought  it  to  a  pit.  The  pit  was  not  a  mere 
hole,  but  was  hollowed  out  under  the  earth  like  a 
cellar. 

They  took  the  body  under  the  armpits  and  by  the 
legs,  doubled  it  up,  and  let  it  down  gently,  shoved  it 
forcibly  under  the  grouud,  and  laid  the  arms  along 
the  belly.  The  Noga'i  brought  a  green  osier.  They 
laid  it  in  the  pit ;  then  they  quickly  filled  it  up  with 
earth,  and  over  the  dead  man's  head  they  placed  a 
gravestone.  They  smoothed  the  earth  over,  and  again 
sat  around  the  grave  in  rows.  There  was  a  long 
silence. 

"Allah!  Allah!  Allah!" 

They  sighed  and  got  up.  The  red-bearded  Tatar 
gave  money  to  the  old  men,  then  he  got  up,  struck  his 
forehead  three  times  with  a  whip,  and  went  home. 

The  next  morning  Zhilin  sees  the  red-haired  Tatar 
leading  a  mare  through  the  village,  and  three  Tatars 
following  him.  They  went  behind  the  village.  Kazi 
Muhamet  took  off  his  beshmet,  rolled  up  his  sleeves, 


A   PRISONER   IN  THE   CAUCASUS.  333 

—  his  hands  were  powerful, — took  out  his  dagger, 
and  sharpened  it  on  a  whetstone.  The  Tatars  held 
back  the  mare's  head.  Kazi  Muhamet  approached, 
and  cut  the  throat ;  then  he  turned  the  animal  over, 
and  began  to  flay  it,  pulling  away  the  hide  with  his 
mighty  fists. 

The  women  and  maidens  came,  and  began  to  wash 
the  intestines  and  the  lights.  Then  they  cut  up  the 
mare,  and  carried  the  meat  to  the  hut.  And  the  whole 
village  collected  at  the  Kazi  Muhamet's  to  celebrate 
the  dead. 

For  three  days  they  feasted  on  the  mare  and  drank 
buza.  Thus  they  celebrated  the  dead.  All  the  Tatars 
were  at  home. 

On  the  fourth  day  about  noon,  Zhilin  sees  that  they 
are  collecting  for  some  expedition.  Their  horses  are 
brought  out.  They  put  on  their  gear,  and  started 
off,  ten  men  of  them,  under  the  command  of  the  Kazi 
Muhamet;  ouly  Abdul  staid  at  home.  There  was  a 
new  moon,  but  the  nights  were  still  dark. 

"  Now,"  thinks  Zhilin,  "  to-day  we  must  escape." 
And  he  tells  Kostuilin. 

But  Kostuilin  was  afraid.  "  How  can  we  escape? 
We  don't  know  the  way." 

"  I  know  the  way." 

"  But  we  should  not  get  there  during  the  night." 

u  Well,  if  we  don't  get  there  we  will  spend  the  night 
in  the  woods.  I  have  some  cakes.  What  are  you 
going  to  do?  It  will  be  all  right  if  they  send  you  the 
money,  but  you  see,  your  friends  may  not  collect  so 
much.  And  the  Tatars  are  now  angry  because  the 
Russians  have  killed  one  of  their  men.  They  say 
they  are  thinking  of  killing  us." 

Kostuilin  thought  and  thought.  "  All  right,  let  us 
go!" 


834  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 


V. 


Ziiilin  crept  down  into  his  hole,  and  widened  it  so 
that  Kostuilin  also  could  get  through,  and  then  they 
sat  and  waited  till  all  should  be  quiet  in  the  aul. 

As  soon  as  the  people  were  quiet  in  the  aul,  Zhilin 
crept  under  the  wall,  and  came  out  on  the  other  side. 
He  whispers  to  Kostuilin,  u  Crawl  under.'* 

Kostuilin  also  crept  under,  but  in  doing  so  he  hit  a 
stone  with  his  leg,  and  it  made  a  noise. 

Now,  the  master  had  a  brindled  dog  as  a  watch,  — 
a  most  ferocious  animal ;  they  called  him  Ulyashin. 

Zhilin  had  been  in  the  habit  of  feeding  him.  Ulya- 
shin heard  the  noise,  and  began  to  bark  and  jump 
about,  and  the  other  dogs  joined  in. 

Zhilin  gave  a  little  whistle,  threw  him  a  piece  of 
cake.  Ulyashin  recognized  him,  began  to  wag  his  tail, 
and  ceased  barking. 

Abdul  had  heard  the  disturbance,  and  cried  from 
within  the  hut :  — 

"Hdit!  hdit!  Ulyashin." 

But  Zhilin  scratched  the  dog  behind  the  ears.  The 
dog  makes  no  more  sound,  rubs  against  his  legs,  and 
wags  bis  tail. 

They  wait  behind  the  corner. 

All  became  silent  again  ;  the  only  sound  was  the 
bleating  of  a  sheep  in  the  fold,  and  far  below  them 
the  water  roaring  Over  the  pebbles. 

It  is  dark,  but  the  sky  is  studded  with  stars.     Over 


A  PRISONER  IN  TIIE  CAUCASUS.  335 

the  mountain  the  young  moon  hung  red,  with  its  horns 
turned  upward. 

In  the  valleys  a  mist  was  rising,  white  as  milk. 
Zhilin  started  up,  and  said  to  his  comrade  in  Tatar, 
"Well,  brother,  ai-da!" 

They  set  out  again. 

But  as  they  get  under  way,  they  hear  the  call  of  the 
mulla  on  the  minaret :  — 

1 '  Allah  !    Bis'  m  Allah  !  el  Bakhman  I ' ' 

"That  means,  the  people  will  be  going  to  the 
mosque." 

Again  they  sat  down  and  hid  under  the  wail. 

They  sat  there  long,  waiting  until  the  people  should 
pass.     Again  it  grew  still. 

"  Now  for  our  fate  !  " 

They  crossed  themselves,  and  started. 

They  went  across  the  dvor,  and  down  the  steep 
bank  to  the  stream,  crossed  the  stream,  proceeded 
along  the  valley.  The  mist  was  thick,  and  closed  in 
all  around  them,  but  above  their  heads  the  stars  could 
still  be  seen. 

Zhilin  used  the  stars  to  guide  him  which  way  to  go. 
It  was  cool  in  the  mist,  it  was  easy  walking,  only  their 
boots  were  troublesome,  —  they  were  worn  at  the  heels. 
Zhilin  took  his  off,  threw  them  away,  and  walked  bare- 
foot. He  sprang  from  stone  to  stone,  and  kept  glan- 
cing at  the  stars. 

Kostuilin  began  to  grow  weary.  "  Go  slower,"  says 
he  ;  "  my  boots  chafe  me,  my  whole  foot  is  raw." 

"  Then  take  them  off,  it  will  be  easier." 

Kostuilin  began  to  go  barefoot,  but  that  was  still 
worse ;  he  kept  scraping  his  feet  on  the  stones  and 
having  to  stop. 

Zhilin  said  to  him,  "  You  may  cut  your  feet,  but  you 


836  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

will  save  j'our  life ;  but  if  you  are  caught  they  will  kill 
you,  which  would  be  worse." 

Kostuiliu  said  nothing,  but  crept  along,  groaning. 
For  a  long  time  they  went  down  the  valley.  Suddenly 
they  hear  dogs  barking  at  the  right.  Zhilin  halted, 
looked  around,  climbed  up  the  bank,  and  felt  about 
with  his  hands. 

"Ekh!"  says  he,  "  we  have  made  a  mistake;  we 
have  gone  too  far  to  the  right.  Here  is  one  of  the 
enemy's  villages.  I  could  see  it  from  the  hill.  We 
must  go  back  to  the  left,  up  the  mountain.  There 
must  be  a  forest  there." 

But  Kostuilin  objected.  "Just  wait  a  little  while, 
let  us  get  breath.     My  feet  are  all  blood." 

"  Eh,  brother!  they  will  get  well.  You  should  walk 
more  lightly.     This  way." 

And  Zhilin  turned  back  toward  the  left,  and  up  hill 
toward  the  forest. 

Kostuilin  kept  halting  and  groaning.  Zhilin  tried 
to  hush  him  up,  and  still  hastened  on. 

They  climbed  the  mountain.  And  there  they  found 
the  forest.  They  entered  it ;  their  clothes  were  all  torn 
to  pieces  on  the  thorns.  They  found  a  little  path 
through  the  woods.     They  walked  along  it. 

"  Halt!" 

There  was  the  sound  of  hoofs  on  the  path.  They 
stopped  to  listen.  It  sounded  like  the  tramping  of  a 
horse  :  then  it  also  stopped.  They  set  out  once  more  ; 
again  the  tramping  hoofs.  When  they  stopped,  it 
stopped. 

Zhilin  crept  ahead,  and  investigated  a  light  spot  on 
the  path. 

Something  is  standing  there.  It  may  be  a  horse, 
or  it  may  not,  but  on  it  there  is  something  strange,  not 
at  all  like  a  man. 


A   PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  337 

It  snorted  —  plainly  !     "  What  a  strange  thing  !  " 

Zhilin  gave  a  slight  whistle.  There  was  a  dash  of 
feet  from  the  path  into  the  forest,  a  crackling  in  the 
underbrush,  and  something  rushed  along  like  a  hurri- 
cane, with  a  crashing  of  dry  boughs. 

Kostuilin  almost  fell  to  the  ground  in  fright.  But 
Zhilin  laughed,  and  said,  — 

''That  was  a  stag.  Do  you  hear  how  it  crashes 
through  the  woods  with  its  horns?  We  frightened  him, 
and  he  frightened  us." 

They  went  on  their  way.  Already  the  Great  Bear 
was  beginning  to  set ;  the  dawn  was  not  distant.  And 
they  were  in  doubt  whether  they  should  come  out  right 
or  not.  Zhilin  was  inclined  to  think  that  they  were  on 
the  right  track,  and  that  it  would  be  about  ten  versts 
farther  before  they  reached  the  Russian  fortress,  but 
there  is  no  certain  guide ;  you  could  not  tell  in  the 
night. 

They  came  to  a  little  clearing.  Kostuilin  sat  down 
and  said,  — 

'kDo  as  you  please,  but  I  will  not  go  any  farther; 
my  legs  won't  carry  me." 

Zhilin  tried  to  persuade  him. 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  I  won't  go,  I  can't  go." 

Zhilin  grew  angry  ;  he  threatens  him,  he  scolds  him. 

"  Then  I  will  go  on  without  you.     Good- by  !  " 

Kostuilin  jumped  up  and  followed.  They  went 
four  versts  farther.  The  fog  began  to  grow  thicker 
in  the  forest.  Nothing  could  be  seen  before  them ; 
the  stars  were  barely  visible. 

Suddenly  they  hear  the  tramping  of  a  horse  just  in 
front  of  them  ;  they  can  hear  his  shoes  striking  on  the 
stones. 

Zhilin  threw  himself  down  on  his  belly,  and  tried  to 
listen  by  laying  his  ear  to  the  ground. 


838  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

"  Yes,  it  is,  —  it  is  some  one  on  horseback  coming 
in  our  direction." 

They  slipped  off  to  one  side  of  the  road,  crouched 
down  in  the  bushes,  and  waited.  Zhilin  crept  close 
to  the  path,  and  looked. 

He  sees  a  mounted  Tatar  riding  along,  driving  a 
cow.  The  man  is  muttering  to  himself.  When  the 
Tatar  had  ridden  by,  Zhilin  returned  to  Kostuilin. 

M  Well,  God  has  saved  us.  Up  with  you !  Come 
along ! ' ' 

Kostuilin  tried  to  rise,  and  fell  back. 

"I  can't;  by  God,  I  can't.  My  strength  is  all 
gone." 

The  man  was  as  though  he  were  drunk.  He  was 
all  of  a  sweat;  and  as  they  were  surrounded  by  the 
cold  fog,  and  his  feet  were  torn,  he  was  quite  used  up. 
Zhilin  tried  to  lift  him  by  main  force.  Then  Kostuilin 
cried,  u  J*/  it  hurt." 

Zhilin  was  frightened  to  death. 

l*  What  are  you  screaming  for?  Don't  you  know 
that  Tatar  is  near ?  He  will  hear  you."  But  he  said 
to  himself,  "Now  he  is  really  played  out,  what  can 
I  do  with  him?  I  can't  abandon  a  comrade.  Now," 
says  he,  "get  up;  climb  on  my  back.  I  will  carry 
you  if  you  can't  walk  any  longer."  He  took  Kostuilin 
on  his  shoulders,  holding  him  by  the  thighs,  and  went 
along  the  path  with  his  burden.  "Only,"  says  he, 
"don't  put  your  hands  on  my  throat,  for  Christ's 
sake  !     Lean  on  m}r  shoulders." 

It  was  hard  for  Zhilin.  His  feet  were  also  bloody, 
and  he  was  weary.  He  stopped,  and  made  it  a  little 
easier  for  himself  by  setting  Kostuilin  down,  and  get- 
ting him  better  mounted.     Then  he  went  on  again. 

Evidently  the  Tatar  had  heard  them  when  Kostuilin 


A   PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  339 

screamed.  Zhilin  caught  the  sound  of  some  one  follow- 
ing them  and  shouting  in  his  language.  Zhilin  put  into 
the  bushes.  The  Tatar  aimed  his  gun  ;  he  fired  it  off, 
but  missed  ;  began  to  whine  in  his  native  tongue,  and 
galloped  up  the  path. 

"Well,"  says  Zhilin,  M  we  are  lost,  brother.  The 
dog,  —  he  will  be  right  back  with  a  band  of  Tatars 
on  our  track.  .  .  .  If  we  don't  succeed  in  putting  three 
versts  between  us,  we  are  lost."  And  he  thinks  to  him- 
self, "  The  devil  take  it,  that  I  had  to  bring  this  clod 
along  with  me !  Alone,  I  should  have  got  there  long 
ago." 

Kostuilin  said,  "  Go  alone.  Why  should  you  be 
lost  on  my  account?  " 

t*  No,  I  will  not  go ;  it  would  not  do  to  abandon  a 
comrade."  He  lifted  him  again  on  his  shoulder,  and 
started  on.  Thus  he  made  a  verst.  It  was  forest  all 
the  way,  and  no  sign  of  outlet.  But  the  fog  was  now 
beginning  to  lift,  and  seemed  to  be  floating  away  in 
little  clouds:  not  a  star  could  be  seen.  Zhilin  was 
tired  out. 

A  little  spring  gushed  out  by  the  road  :  it  was  walled 
in  with  stones.  There  he  stopped,  and  dropped  Kos- 
tuilin. 

u  Let  me  rest  a  little,"  says  he,  "  and  get  a  drink. 
We  will  eat  our  cakes.     It  can't  be  very  far  now." 

He  had  just  stretched  himself  out  to  drink,  when  the 
sound  of  hoofs  was  heard  behind  them.  Again  they 
hid  in  the  bushes  at  the  right  under  the  crest,  and 
crouched  down. 

They  heard  Tatar  voices.  The  Tatars  stopped  at 
the  very  spot  where  they  had  turned  in  from  the  road. 
After  discussing  a  while,  they  seemed  to  be  setting 
dosjs  on  the  scent. 


340  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

The  refugees  hear  the  sound  of  a  crashing  through 
the  bushes  :  a  strange  dog  comes  directly  to  them.  He 
stops  and  barks. 

The  Tatars  followed  on  their  track.  They  are  also 
strangers. 

They  seized  them,  bound  them,  lifted  them  on 
horses,  and  carried  them  off. 

After  they  had  ridden  three  versts,  Abdul,  with  two 
Tatars,  met  them.  He  said  something  to  their  new 
captors.  They  were  transferred  to  Abdul's  horses, 
and  were  brought  back  to  the  aul. 

Abdul  was  no  longer  grinning,  and  he  said  not  a 
word  to  them. 

They  reached  the  village  at  daybreak  ;  the  prisoners 
were  left  in  the  street.  The  children  gathered  around 
them,  tormenting  them  with  stones  and  whips,  and 
howling. 

The  Tatars  gathered  around  them  in  a  circle,  and 
the  old  man  from  the  mountain  was  among  them. 
They  began  to  discuss.  Zhilin  made  out  that  they 
were  deciding  on  what  should  be  done  with  them. 
Some  said  that  they  ought  to  be  sent  farther  into  the 
mountains,  but  the  old  man  declared  that  they  must  be 
killed.  Abdul  argued  against  it.  Says  he,  "  I  have 
paid  out  money  for  them,  I  shall  get  a  ransom  for 
them." 

But  the  old  man  said,  "  They  won't  pay  any  thing ; 
it  will  only  be  an  injury  to  us.  And  it  is  a  sin  to 
keep  Russians  alive.  Kill  them,  and  that  is  the  end 
of  it." 

They  separated.  Abdul  came  to  Zhilin,  and  reported 
the  decision. 

"If,"  says  he,  u  the  ransom  is  not  sent  in  two  weeks, 
you  will  be  flogged.    And  if  you  try  to  run  away  again, 


A  PRISONER  IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  341 

I  will  kill  you  like  a  dog.    Write  your  letter,  and  write 
it  good!  " 

Paper  was  brought  them ;  they  wrote  their  letters. 
Clogs  were  put  on  their  feet  again ;  they  were  taken 
behind  the  mosque.  .  .  .  There  was  a  pit  twelve  feet  ' 
deep,  and  they  were  thrust  down  into  this  pit. 

1  Five  arshinB,  11.65  feet. 


842  A  PRISONER  IN   THE  CAUCASUS. 


VI. 


Life  was  made  utterly  wretched  for  them.  Their 
clogs  were  not  taken  off  even  at  night,  and  they  were 
not  let  out  at  all. 

Unbaked  dough  was  thrown  down  to  them  as  though 
they  were  dogs,  and  water  was  let  down  in  a  jug.  In 
the  pit  it  was  damp  and  suffocating. 

Kostuilin  became  ill,  and  swelled  up,  and  had  rheu- 
matism all  over  his  body,  and  he  groaned  or  slept  all 
the  time. 

Even  Zhilin  lost  his  spirits ;  he  sees  that  they  are 
in  desperate  straits.  And  he  does  not  know  how  to 
get  out. 

He  had  begun  to  make  an  excavation,  but  there  was 
nowhere  to  hide  the  earth ;  Abdul  discovered  it,  and 
threatened  to  kill  him. 

He  was  squatting  down  one  time  in  the  pit,  and 
thinking  about  life  and  liberty,  and  he  grew  sad. 

Suddenly  a  cake1  fell  directly  into  his  lap,  then 
another,  and  some  cherries  followed.  He  looked 
up,  and  there  was  Dina.  She  peered  down  at  him, 
laughed,  and  then  ran  away.  And  Zhilin  began  to 
conjecture,  "  Couldn't  Dina  help  me?  M 

He  cleared  out  a  little  place  in  the  pit,  picked  up 
some  clay,  and  made  some  dolls.  He  made  men  and 
women,  horses  and  dogs  ;  he  said  to  himself,  "  When 
Dina  comes,  I  will  give  them  to  her." 

1  lepyoshka. 


A    PRISONER   IN   THE   CAUCASUS.  343 

But  Dina  did  not  make  her  appearance  on  the  next 
day.  And  Zhilin  hears  the  trampling  of  horses' 
hoofs :  men  came  riding  up :  the  Tatars  collected  at 
the  mosque,  arguing,  shouting,  and  talking  about  the 
Russians. 

The  voice  of  the  old  man  was  heard.  Zhilin  could 
not  understand  very  well,  but  he  made  out  that  the 
Russians  were  somewhere  near,  and  the  Tatars  were 
afraid  that  they  would  attack  the  aul,  and  they  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  the  prisoners. 

They  talked  a  while,  and  went  away.  Suddenly 
Zhilin  heard  a  rustling  at  the  edge  of  the  pit. 

He  sees  Dina  squatting  on  her  heels,  with  her  knees 
higher  than  her  head ;  she  leaned  over,  her  necklace 
hung  down  and  swung  over  the  pit.  And  her  little 
eyes  twinkled  like  stars.  She  took  from  her  sleeve 
two  cheesecakes,  and  threw  them  down  to  him.  Zhilin 
accepted  them,  and  said,  "  Why  did  you  stay  away  so 
long?  I  have  been  making  you  some  dolls.  Here 
they  are."  He  began  to  toss  them  up  to  her  one  at  a 
time. 

But  she  shook  her  head,  and  would  not  look  at  them. 
"  I  can't  take  them,"  said  she.  She  said  nothing  more 
for  a  time,  but  sat  there:  then  she  said,  "Ivan,  they 
want  to  kill  you." 

She  made  a  significant  motion  across  her  throat. 

44  Who  wants  to  kill  me?  " 

"  Father.  The  old  man  has  ordered  him  to.  But 
I  am  sorry  for  you." 

And  Zhilin  said,  "Well,  then,  if  you  are  sorry  for 
me,  bring  me  a  long  stick."  She  shook  her  head, 
meaning  that  it  was  impossible. 

He  clasped  his  hands  in  supplication  to  her.  "  Dina, 
please  !     Bring  one  to  me,  Dinushka ! " 


344  A   PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

"  I  can't,*'  said  she.  "They  would  see  me  ;  they 
are  all  at  home."     And  she  ran  away. 

Afterwards,  Zhilin  was  sitting  there  in  the  evening, 
and  wondering  what  he  should  do.  He  kept  raising 
his  eyes.  He  could  see  the  stars,  but  the  moon  was 
not  yet  up.  The  mulla  uttered  his  call,  then  all 
became  silent. 

Zhilin  began  already  to  doze,  thinking  to  himself, 
"  The  little  maid  is  afraid." 

Suddenly  a  piece  of  clay  fell  on  his  head ;  he 
glanced  up ;  a  long  pole  was  sliding  over  the  edge  of 
the  pit,  it  slid  out,  began  to  descend  toward  him,  it 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  pit.  Zhilin  was  delighted. 
He  seized  it,  pulled  it  along,  —  it  was  a  strong  pole. 
He  had  noticed  it  before  on  Abdul's  roof. 

He  gazed  up ;  the  stars  were  shining  high  in  the 
heavens,  and  Dina's  eyes,  at  the  edge  of  the  pit, 
gleamed  in  the  darkness  like  a  cat's. 

She  craned  her  head  over,  and  whispered,  "  Ivan, 
Ivan."  And  she  waved  her  hands  before  her  face, 
meaning,  "Softly,  please." 

"  What  is  it?"  said  Zhilin. 

"  All  have  gone,  there  are  only  two  at  home." 

And  Zhilin  said,  "  Well,  Kostuilin,  let  us  go,  let  us 
make  our  last  attempt.     I  will  help  you." 

Kostuilin,  however,  would  not  hear  to  it. 

44  No,"  says  he,  "it  is  not  meant  for  me  to  get 
away  from  here.  How  could  I  go  when  I  haven't  even 
strength  to  turn  over?  " 

"All  right,  then.  Good -by.1  Don't  think  me 
unkind." 

He  kissed  Kostuilin. 

He  clasped  the  pole,  told  Dina  to  hold  it  firmly,  and 

1  proshchau 


A   PRISONER  JN   THE   CAUCASUS.  345 

tried  to  climb  up.  Twice  he  fell  back,  —  his  clog  so 
impeded  him.  Kostuilin  boosted  him  ;  he  managed  to 
get  to  the  top  :  Dina  pulled  on  the  sleeves  of  his  shirt 
with  all  her  might,  laughing  heartily. 

Zhilin  pulled  up  the  pole,  and  said,  "  Carry  it  back 
to  its  place,  Dina,  for  if  they  found  it  they  would  flog 
you." 

She  dragged  off  the  pole,  and  Zhilin  began  to  go 
down  the  mountain.  When  he  had  reached  the  bottom 
of  the  cliff,  he  took  a  sharp  stone,  and  tried  to  break 
the  padlock  of  his  clog.  But  the  lock  was  strong ;  he 
could  not  strike  it  fairly. 

He  hears  some  one  hurrying  down  the  hill,  with  light, 
skipping  steps.  He  thinks,  "  That  is  probably  Dina 
again." 

Dina  ran  to  him,  took  a  stone,  and  says,  "  Let  me 
try  it." 

She  knelt  down,  and  began  to  work  with  all  her 
might.  But  her  hands  were  as  delicate  as  osiers.  She 
had  no  strength.  She  threw  down  the  stone,  and  burst 
into  tears. 

Zhilin  again  tried  to  break  the  lock,  and  Dina 
squatted  by  his  side,  and  leaned  against  his  shoulder. 
Zhilin  glanced  up,  and  saw  at  the  left  behind  the 
mountain  a  red  glow  like  a  fire ;  it  was  the  moon  just 
rising. 

"  Well,"  he  says  to  himself,  "  I  must  cross  the  val- 
ley and  get  into  the  woods  before  the  moon  rises." 
He  stood  up,  and  threw  away  the  stone.  No  matter 
for  the  clog  —  he  must  take  it  with  him. 

"  Good-by,"  says  he.  "  Dinushka,  I  shall  always 
remember  you." 

Dina  clung  to  him,  reached  with  her  hands  for  a 
place  to  stow  away  some  cakes.     He  took  the  cakes. 


346  A  PR/SONER  IN   THE   CAUCASUS. 

44 Thank  you,"  said  be:  "yon  are  a  thoughtful 
darling.  Who  will  make  you  dolls  after  I  am  gone?  " 
and  he  stroked  her  hair. 

Diua  burst  into  tears,  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and 
scrambled  up  the  hillside  like  a  kid.  He  could  hear, 
in  the  darkness,  the  jingling  of  the  coins  on  her 
braids. 

Zhilin  crossed  himself,  picked  up  the  lock  of  his 
clog  so  that  it  might  not  make  a  noise,  and  started  on 
his  way,  dragging  his  leg  all  the  time,  and  keeping 
his  eyes  constantly  on  the  glow  where  the  moon  was 
rising. 

He  knew  the  way.  He  had  eight  versts  to  go  in  a 
direct  course,  but  he  would  have  to  strike  into  the 
forest  before  the  moon  came  entirely  up.  He  crossed 
the  stream,  and  now  the  light  was  increasing  behind  the 
mountain. 

He  proceeded  along  the  valley  :  it  was  growing  light. 
He  walks  along,  constantly  glancing  around ;  but  still 
the  moon  was  not  visible.  The  glow  was  now  chan- 
ging to  white  light,  and  one  side  of  the  valley  grew 
brighter  and  brighter.  The  shadow  crept  away  from 
the  mountain  till  it  reached  its  very  foot. 

Zhilin  still  hurried  along,  all  the  time  keeping  to  the 
shadow. 

He  hurries  as  fast  as  he  can,  but  the  moon  rises 
still  faster ;  and  now,  at  the  right,  the  mountain-tops 
are  illuminated. 

He  struck  into  the  forest  just  as  the  moon  rose  above 
the  mountains.  It  became  as  light  and  white  as  day. 
On  the  trees  all  the  leaves  were  visible.  It  was  warm 
and  bright  on.  the  mountain-side  ;  every  thing  seemed 
as  though  it  were  dead.  The  only  sound  was  the  roar- 
ing of  a  torrent  far  below.     He  walked  along  in  the 


A  PRISONER  IN  TI1E   CAUCASUS.  347 

forest;  he  had  met  no  one.  Zhilin  found  a  little 
spot  in  the  forest  where  it  was  still  darker,  and  began 
to  rest. 

While  he  rested  he  ate  one  of  his  cakes.  He  pro- 
cured a  stone  and  once  more  tried  to  break  the  padlock, 
but  he  only  bruised  his  hands,  and  failed  to  break  the 
lock. 

He  arose  and  went  on  his  way.  When  he  had 
gone  a  verst  his  strength  gave  out,  his  feet  were 
sore.  He  had  to  walk  ten  steps  at  a  time,  and  then 
rest. 

44  There's  nothing  to  be  done  for  it,"  says  he  to 
himself.  u  I  will  push  on  as  long  as  my  strength  holds 
out ;  for  if  I  sit  down,  then  I  shall  not  get  up  again. 
If  I  do  not  reach  the  fortress  before  it  is  daylight, 
then  I  will  lie  down  in  the  woods  and  spend  the  day, 
and  start  on  to-morrow  night  again." 

He  walked  all  night.  Once  he  passed  two  Tatars 
on  horseback,  but  he  heaixl  them  at  some  distance,  and 
hid  behind  a  tree. 

Already  the  moon  was  beginning  to  pale,  the  dew 
had  fallen,  it  was  near  dawn,  and  Zhilin  had  not 
reached  the  end  of  the  forest. 

44  Well,"  says  he  to  himself,  44I  will  go  thirty  steps 
farther,  strike  into  the  forest,  and  sit  down." 

He  went  thirty  steps,  and  sees  the  end  of  the  forest. 
He  went  to  the  edge ;  it  was  broad  daylight.  Before 
him,  as  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  were  the  steppe  and  the 
fortress  ;  and  on  the  left,  not  far  away  on  the  mountain- 
side, fires  were  burning,  or  dying  out ;  the  smoke  rose, 
and  men  were  moving  around  the  watch-fires. 

He  looks,  and  sees  the  gleaming  of  fire-arms: 
Cossacks,  soldiers ! 

Zhilin  was  overjoyed. 


848  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 

He  gathered  his  remaining  strength,  and  walked 
down  the  mountain.  And  he  says  to  himself,  "God 
help  me,  if  a  mounted  Tatar  should  get  sight  of  me 
on  this  bare  field !  I  should  not  escape  him,  even 
though  I  am  so  near."  Even  while  these  thoughts 
are  passing  through  his  mind,  he  sees  at  the  left,  on 
a  hillock  not  fourteen  hundred  feet  away,  three  Tatars 
on  the  watch.  They  caught  sight  of  him, — bore 
down  upon  him.  Then  his  heart  failed  within  him. 
Waving  his  arms,  he  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
44  Brothers !  help,  brothers !  M 

Our  men  heard  him,  —  mounted  Cossacks  dashed  out 
toward  him.  The  Cossacks  were  far  off,  the  Tatars 
near.  And  now  Zhilin  collected  his  last  remaining 
energies,  seized  his  clog  with  his  hand,  ran  toward  the 
Cossacks,  and,  without  any  consciousness  of  feeling, 
crossed  himself  and  cried,  u  Brothers,  brothers, 
brothers!  " 

The  Cossacks  were  fifteen  in  number. 

The  Tatars  were  dismayed.  Before  they  reached 
him,  they  stopped  short.  And  Zhilin  reached  the 
Cossacks. 

The  Cossacks  surrounded  him,  and  questioned  him  : 
4  *  Who  are  you  ?  • '  "  What  is  your  name  ? ' '  M  Where 
did  you  come  from?  " 

But  Zhilin  was  almost  beside  himself ;  he  wept,  and 
kept  on  shouting,  "  Brothers,  brothers !  " 

The  soldiers  hastened  up,  and  gathered  around  him ; 
one  brought  him  bread,  another  kasha-gruel,  another 
vodka,  another  threw  a  cloak  around  him,  still  another 
broke  his  chains. 

The  officers  recognized  him,  they  brought  him  into 
the  fortress.  The  soldiers  were  delighted,  his  comrades 
pressed  into  Zhilin' s  room. 


A  PRISONER  IN  THE  CAUCASUS.  349 

Zhilin  told  them  what  had  happened  to  him,  and  he 
ended  his  tale  with  the  words,  — 

4 "That's  the  way  I  went  home  and  got  married! 
No,  I  see  that  such  is  not  to  l)e  my  fate." 

And  he  remained  in  the  service  in  the  Caucasus. 

At  the  end  of  a  month  Kostuilin  was  ransomed  for 
five  thousand  rubles. 

He  was  brought  home  scarcely  alive. 


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Whittemore. 

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WHAT  THE  CRITICS  SAY  OF 

Crowell's  Illustrated  Edition 

OF 

LES  MISERABLES. 


"This  translation  of  Victor  Hugo's  masterpiece  is  the  best  one 
that  has  been  made."  —  JV.  lr.  Observer. 

"  Can  hardly  fail  to  be  accepted  by  critical  authorities  as  the  per' 
manent  Standard." — Boston  Traveller. 

11  Has  been  many  times  translated  into  English,  but  never  has  the 
work  been  done  by  so  clever  and  faithful  a  translator  as  Miss  Hap- 
good."  —  Albany  Press. 

"  The  most  spirited  rendering  of  Hugo's  masterpiece  into  Eng- 
lish, and  the  illustrations  and  the  letter-press  are  just  as  deserving 
of  praise."  —  Phila.  Press. 

"The  translation  will  no  doubt  supersede  all  others." — Cin< 
Times- Star. 

"  The  publishers  have  made  this  book  very  attractive.  They  are 
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especially  for  a  popular  edition  which  will  make  this  great  work 
accessible  to  a  wider  class  of  readers."—  Boston  Advertiser. 

"  Deserves  the  highest  praise."  — Nation. 

"Miss  Hapgood  is  sympathetic;  she  becomes  one  with  her 
author.  Her  rendering  of  •  Les  Miserables ■  has  not  been  equalled. 
It  will  not  be  surpassed.  The  standard —  it  is  here  —  is  attained." 
— National  Bepublican. 

ASK  YOUR  BOOKSELLER  FOR 

CROWELL'S     ILLUSTRATED     EDITION 

—  OF  — 

LES  MISERABLES. 

By  VICTOR  HUGO.     Translated  from  the  French  by  Isabel 
F.  Hapgood.     With  160  full-page  illustrations,  printed  on  flue 
calendered  paper,  and  bound  in  neat  and  attractive  style. 
5  vols.,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $7.50;   half  calf,  $15.00. 
Popular  edition  in  one  vol.,  12mo,  $1.50. 


THOMAS    Y.    CROWELL    &    CO. 

13    ASTOR    PLACE,    NEW    YORK. 


Count  TolstoVs  Greatest  Work  of  Fiction, 

ANNA  KARfiNINA, 

By  COUNT  LEO.  TOLSTOI. 

Translated  from  the  Russian  by  Nathan  Haskell  Dole. 
Royal  i2mo,  750  pp.,  $1.75. 


"As  you  read  on  you  say,  not,  'This  is  like  life,*  but,  'This  is  life.*  It  has  not 
Only  the  complexion,  the  very  hue,  of  life,  but  its  movement,  its  advances,  its 
strange  pauses,  its  seeming  reversions  to  former  conditions,  and  its  perpetual 
change,  its  apparent  isolations,  its  essential  solidarity.  It  is  a  world,  and  you 
live  in  it  while  you  read,  and  long  afterward;  but  at  no  step  have  you  been 
betrayed,  not  because  your  guide  has  warned  or  exhorted  you,  but  because  he 
has  been  true,  and  has  shown  you  all  things  as  they  are." —  W.  D.  Jlozuells,  in 
Harpers'  Monthly. 

"The  power  of  this  book  lies  in  the  author's  supreme  control  of  the  influences 
which  affect  human  action,  in  his  vivid  apprehension  of  the  operation  of  inex- 
orable law,  in  his  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  action  and  reaction  of  spiritual  con- 
ditions. With  a  noble  art  he  throws  against  the  shadow,  that  deepens  ever  to 
the  end,  a  radiant  soul  development  that  serenely  grows  brighter  till  we  know  it 
is  Tolstoi  himself,  his  experience,  his  best.  It  is  a  great  book,  and  of  such 
creations  the  most  sincere  admiration  falls  sadly  short  of  fitting  expression."  — 
Washing-ton  Post. 

"The  effect  of  the  whole  is  stimulating  and  elevating.  The  book  is  certainly 
one  of  decided  genius."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  this  noble  book  without  incurring  the  suspicion  of 
extravagance."  —New  York  Examiner. 

"Will  take  rank  among  the  great  works  of  fiction  of  the  age."  —  Portland 
Transcript. 

"Characterized  by  all  the  breadth  and  complexity,  the  insight,  and  the  pro- 
found analysis  of  Middlemarch.'  " —  Critic,  New  York. 

"  It  is  not  undue  praise  to  say  that,  since  the  publication  of  Goethe's  '  Elective 
Affinities,'  no  such  relentless  analysis  of  the  human  emotions,  and  of  the  action 
and  reaction  of  social  relations,  has  appeared  as  is  shown  in  Count  Tolstoi's 
novel,  '  Anna  KanSnina.' "  —  Boston  Traveller. 


THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL  &   CO., 

13  ASTOR  PLACE,   NEW  YORK. 


The  Labor  Movement  in  America. 

By   RICHARD   T.  ELY,  Ph.D., 

Associate  in  Political  Economy,  Johns  Hopkins  University;    author  of  "  French  and 
German  Socialism,"  "  The  Past  and  the  Present  of  Political  Economy,"  etc 

12mo.     Price,  $1.50. 

CONTENTS. 


Survey  of  the  Field. 

Early  American  Communism. 

The  Growth  and  Present  Condition  of  Labor 
Organizations  in  America. 

The  Economic  Value  of  Labor  Organiza- 
tions. 

The  Educational  Value  of  Labor  Organiza- 
tions. 

Other  Aspects  of  Labor  Organizations. 

Co-operation  in  America. 

The  Beginnings  of  Modern  Socialism  in 
America. 

The  Internationalists. 

The  Propaganda  of  Deed  and  the  Educa- 
tional Campaign. 

The  Socialistic  Labor  Party. 

The  Strength  of  Revolutionary  Socialism. 
—  Its  Significance. 

Remedies. 


Platform  of    Principles  of   the    National 

Labor  Union. 
Pledge  and  Preamble  of  the  Journeymen 

Bricklayers'  Association  of  Philadelphia. 
Declaration   of  Principles  and  Objects  of 

the  Cigar  Makers'   Progressive    Union 

of  America. 
Extracts    from    the    Constitution    of    the 

National    Amalgamated    Association    of 

Iron  and  Steel  Workers  of  the  United 

States. 
Manifesto  of  the    International  Working 

People's  Association. 
Letter    to    Tramps,    reprinted    from    the 

"Alarm  "  of  Chicago. 
Platform   and    Present    Demands    of    the 

Socialistic  Labor  Partv. 
Declaration  of  Independence,  July  4,  1886, 

by  an  American  Socialist. 


NOTICES   OF  THE    PRESS. 

"The  subject  has  been  his  specialty  for  probably  a  dozen  years,  and  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  he  is  more  thoroughly  and  intimately  acquainted  with  it  than  any  other  man  in  the 
country. ' '  —  Lancaster  Intelligencer,  Pa. 

"The  best  work  on  the  subject  —  we  regard  it  as  a  great  step  toward  the  solution  of 
pending  difficulties." — North  Western  Presbyterian. 

"  No  man  in  this  country  speaks  with  the  same  authority  or  deserves  more  earnest 
attention.  Must  take  its  place  as  an  essential  in  the  education  of  every  one  who  has  heart 
to  feel  or  desire  to  comprehend  what  ground  for  dissatisfaction  really  exists."—  Orange 
Chronicle. 

"  Deserves  the  most  careful  study.  No  question  just  now  should  more  profoundly 
interest  the  thinking  men  of  all  classes." —  The  Age  of  Steel. 

"The  review  of  the  labor  organizations  in  this  country  from  the  year  1800  to  1886  is  a 
masterly  presentation,  and  will  justify  even  a  poor  man  buying  the  book." —  The  Beacon. 

"  A  timely  book  by  an  able  hand.  We  heartily  commend  this  book  to  every  thoughtful 
citizen."  — Portland  Argus. 

"The  work  is  among  the  best  — we  think  it  is  the  best  —  which  the  perplexing  labor 
question  has  evoked." —  The  Interior. 

"  Every  intelligent  reader  in  the  country  will  find  the  book  most  useful."  —  St.  Louis 
Republican. 

"  No  one  who  wishes  to  understand  the  problems  of  labor  and  capital  can  afford  to  be 
without  Professor  Ely's  work."  —  Rochester  Chronicle. 

"  Professor  Ely's  volume  deserves  the  careful  study  of  manufacturers  and  employers 
of  labor  especially.  It  deals  with  well  authenticated  facts  more  than  theories  — a  remark- 
able  and  timely  book. "  —  Boston  Traveller. 

"  His  treatment  is  broad  and  comprehensive,  dealing  with  the  fundamental  questions 
of  the  labor  movement  to  the  exclusion  of  such  minor  and  incidental  topics  as  are  often 
prone  to  intrude  themselves  into  a  discussion  of  this  nature."  —  School  Journal. 

"  We  believe  it  will  have  a  positive  effect  in  helping  to  maintain  kindly  relations 
between  the  laborer  and  his  employer." — Troy  Times. 

"  It  is  without  doubt  the  most  complete  historical  sketch  yet  published  of  the  origin 
and  growth  both  of  socialism  and  of  labor  organizations."  —  Nau  York  Observer. 

"  Heartily  commended  to  the  careful  attention  of  all  concerned  in  the  labor  question, 
whether  employers  or  employed."  —  Cleveland  Plaindealer. 

For  Sale  by  all  Booksellers. 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  CO.,  13  Astor  Place,  New  York. 


Mrs.  Shillaber's  Cook-Book, 


A  PRACTICAL   GUIDE  FOR  HOUSEKEEPERS. 

By    Mrs.    LYDIA    SHILLABER.    With  an  Introduction  by 
Mrs.  PARTINGTON. 

12mo,  cloth,  $1.25.     Kitchen   Edition,  In  Oilcloth,  $1.25. 
Fourth  Edition  now  ready. 

Extract  from  Mrs.  Partington's  Introduction. 
"  Well,  well,"  said  Mrs.  Partington,  her  spectacles  beaming  with  delight  as  she 
turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  new  cookery  book,  "  I  declare  it  excites  my  salvation 
glands  even  to  read  the  names  of  these  good  things.  It  seems  as  though  the  greatest 
epicac  might  find  something  among  all  these  meats  and  cosmetics  to  give  a  jest  to 
appetite.  .  .  .  Now  a  book  like  this  will  come  into  a  house  like  au  oasis  in  the 
desert  of  the  great  Sarah,  and  be  a  quarantine  of  perpetual  peace. 


"  Has  the  best  characteristic  of  simplicity,  variety,  and  usefulness." — Boston  Jour' 
nal. 

"  A  thoroughly  intelligible  and  practical  guide  for  young  housekeepers."—  Boston 
Advertiser. 

"The  most  sensible  cook-book  of  the  season."  —Journal  of  Education. 

"  Numerous  hoasehold  hints  in  the  book,  which  of  themselves  make  it  valuable." 
—Pittsburg  Chronicle-  Telegraph. 

"The  work  will  certainly  commend  itself  to  the  housekeeper."—  A  merican  Hebrew. 

"  To  all  in  the  culinary  work  this  is  a  model  guide." —  Ohio  State  Journal. 

"  A  formidable  rival  of  the  numerous  works  of  its  kind. "  —  Christian  Index. 


THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL   &  CO. 

13  ASTOR   PLACE,   NEW  YORK. 


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